Abomination
by Laura Harkness
Summary: Ten wants his people and his planet back. If Caan broke the War's time-lock why can't he? But Ten can't do it alone and there's only one man in the universe for the job, except HE has problems of his own: Big Problems. Creepy Problems. Perilous Problems.
1. Chapter 1

**ABOMINATION**

**Obligatory Disclaimer: **Inspired by, dedicated to and in the greatest respect of Doctor Who, Torchwood and especially David Tennant, who I never grow weary of watching.

"_Doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love."  
__Hamlet  
__Act II, Sc. II_

**Author's Note:**

I've taken dramatic license with this plot and my storyline has diverged from RTD's canon so you may want to suspend your disbelief if you take said canon seriously.  
Or as our Doctor says in a later chapter, "Just go with me on this, okay?"

**PREVIOUSLY ON...**

The Doctor opened his eyes and looked at Wil.

"You are the bravest person I know," she went on as if they were in the middle of a conversation.

"I couldn't tell them, but everything that happened to you – everything you went through, experienced and thought – I felt, shared, _knew_. I am in awe of your strength and your resilience. I am inspired by your fearlessness. I revere your sense of mercy, fairness and morality."

She reached out and lightly touched his face.

"That is why I return your gift to you. Not because I do not want it, but because as long as you are with us I have no need of it.

"And because this is where I belong."

She smiled and was once again, evermore, only – and that is saying _a lot_ – the human being Wil Beinert.

The Doctor smiled back. (1)

_-00-_

Wil picked up a large piece of coral from his desk and examined it intently. She wasn't sure she could bear to look at him during the next bit.

"And I hurt you," she acknowledged sadly.

Jack stood up, slowly walked over to her, reclaimed his objet d'art, and placed it carefully back on his desk.

"Yes, you did. Don't ever do it again."

"I won't. I promise." She looked into his eyes and held her breath without realizing it. (2)

_-00-_

Jack nodded and then tentatively took Wil's hand in his.

"It's a funny thing," he said quietly, looking out over the gloaming city, "how sad moments of change can be. But the alternative for me is to live forever with no change at all. And _that_ is a kind of death – a lame and sorry one that I am determined to try to avoid."

Jack raised his other hand and cupped her face lightly, "I wonder if you would be willing to walk by my side through a few of those moments of change, maybe quite a few of them?" He gazed deeply into her eyes, questioning, wondering if she understood…

Through his fingertips he felt her nod, almost imperceptibly.

Then he leaned forward and kissed her. It was neither a chaste kiss nor the kiss of a friend, but the kiss of a lover with a promise of much more to follow and the start of something wonderful.

_Back down in the hub, Ianto furtively looked around before he turned off his monitor. His face was stricken and his eyes full of tears as he put on his coat, grabbed a few items off his desk, shoved them into his pockets, and walked out the door alone into the night._ (3)

(1) "Revelations" Chapter 27.  
(2) "Revelations" Chapter 30.  
(3) "Prodigals" Epilogue.

**PROLOGUE**

It was not cognizant.

It had no sense of time or place.

Yet it was waiting…

It was living.

But by no one's definition would it be described as alive.

Yet it was waiting…

It was not attentive or sentient.

It did not breathe, it did not feel, it did not perceive.

Yet it was waiting…

It had no age, but it was old.

It was unborn, unaware, unmindful.

Yet it was waiting…

It had no concept of self.

It lacked awareness of existence.

Yet it was waiting…

It was without purpose, without principle.

It pursued naught and intended nothing.

Yet it was waiting…

It had no position, no correct location.

It lacked theory, thought, belief.

Yet it was waiting…

It was a blank slate, an empty vessel.

It was darker than the exquisite black of space.

It was brighter than a million suns.

It was lighter than hydrogen.

It was heavier than the densest element in the cosmos.

It was not sleeping but it could be awakened.

Once roused, it would wait no more.

**ONE**

There was no other way to describe it: the man had come out of freaking nowhere and was suddenly in her face. He was blocking her path as she made her way down the busy sidewalk. The man was incredibly tall and very… large. Not just large physically but metaphysically as well – although in her mind she wouldn't have used the word _metaphysical_; it was not in her vocabulary. Instead she just knew she felt seriously uncomfortable in his presence; for sure she didn't like him hulking in front of her…

"Donna?" The man looked at her with steely blue eyes, "Is it you?"

"Oi! Who in the hell are you?" She gripped her purse more tightly to prevent it from being ripped from her hand but also, just in case, if she needed to use it as a bludgeon to escape from the ominous dark-haired stranger. She briefly imagined smacking him across the face with her handbag and then, what? Running? Well, it was an option, although she definitely was not wearing the proper shoes. Bloody office dress-code…

"Donna? D-Don't you recognize me?" he leaned down, peering at her.

"I've never seen you before in my flippin' life, now leave me alone or you'll regret the day you were born!" she spat.

The man's slight smile turned into a confused frown. "But you know me! The Doctor…"

The perplexed look on his face was all she required; instinctively and with no small amount of relief she understood the situation had defused. Donna Noble laughed ruefully at the man towering over her, "I doubt you go to the same doctor I do, dearie, not unless your reproductive organs are on the inside instead of the outside." She glanced at his crotch for a moment and snickered. "Now off with you!"

She roughly pushed past him and didn't look back as Jack Harkness turned bewildered, shook his head, and watched her walk away.

Back at the office one of the other temps and she shared a good laugh about the incident.

"But he knew your name?" Suzy-with-the-bleached-blond-hair asked; Donna couldn't remember the woman's last name, not that it mattered. "How could that be?"

Donna scowled and shook her head. "I don't know, just one of those things. I tell you, I've never seen him before in my life!" Her cheeks pinked up a bit. "He wasn't half-bad looking and I would've remembered meeting him. It was just… what do they call them? A coincidence. Right, a coincidence. Or he was a nutcase. Pity, that, because he _was_ lovely…"

The two women chuckled conspiratorially and then went back to work.


	2. Chapter 2

**ABOMINATION**

**TWO**

The bizarre encounter – what else could you call it? – took Jack's mind off even more distressing matters. He kept replaying the incident in his head as he walked back to the hotel. Could he have been mistaken? No… impossible. He was sure he'd been correct. But then why had Donna not recognized him?

He despondently rode the elevator up to the penthouse, watching the floor numbers increment as the lift moved swiftly towards its destination. It had simply been a terrible day. A terrible week… A terrible month… Terrible, terrible, terrible, _ad infinitum_… Running into Donna, or whoever the hell it had been, was the final blow. There was only one thing that could salvage his deteriorating state of mind, just one thing that could save him, and it was waiting… _she_ was waiting, inside their room.

Wil Beinert looked up expectantly, then saw his face and smiled sadly. "No luck?"

"No, nothing." He shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto a chair after closing the door to their suite. Wil was sitting cross-legged on the king-sized bed, balancing a laptop between her knees. As he walked towards her she set the computer aside and held her arms out wide in invitation.

"I'm so sorry, Jack. We understood going in that this was a long shot."

He rubbed his eyes as he sat down on the bed beside her. "Yes, I know, but it has been so long since we've gotten anything concrete on him. I thought we were overdue; we've been trying so hard. I was hoping this time it was going to be different, that this time the information would lead to something substantive." Jack sighed softly as Wil settled her hands on his shoulders and began gently massaging them, trying to ease Jack's pain. Her sympathetic silence invited him to continue talking.

"It has been so damned long, I can't believe it… I really thought this was going to be the turning point we've been waiting for. I don't know; it just felt _different_ to me, somehow. What about you?"

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Oh, I don't know. I don't want to give up hope, but all we've run into since he disappeared are dead ends. With what he took…"

Jack's eyes flashed, his muscles tensed, "What he _stole_."

Wil stood up to him. She always did. And he loved her for it. "With what he _took_ with him that night we knew finding him was not going to be a simple or straightforward matter."

Jack nodded. If they'd had this conversation once, they'd had it a million times. Wil and he had gone over what happened, picked it apart, and torn it to shreds. It did no good, of course. The dissection simply served to twist the knife deeper.

Jack had never been one for second-guessing himself. But this time…

He suddenly remembered his odd encounter with the woman he had thought was Donna Noble… Had been certain was Donna Noble. He described the episode to Wil, who sat quietly and listened, her eyes slightly unfocused as she conjured up the scene in her imagination.

"Are you sure it was Donna?"

The Captain's eyes sparkled. "Oh, yeah, if it wasn't then God didn't make little green apples."

She laughed despite the serious nature of the conversation. Jack enjoyed throwing song lyrics into the middle of their discussions. It was a private little game they played. He shared Wil's love of music and had introduced her to many of the more esoteric, if not peculiar songs he'd learned over the years, including this one. It turned out she had an almost perfect memory for lyrics as well as melody; stumping her was a challenge, to say the least.

"And it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summer time," she sang softly in response. And correctly, as it turned out. _Nuls points pour Jacques!_

He grinned at her but then turned somber again, the fun quickly over. "It _was_ Donna, I'm certain of it. There's no one else as feisty who has long red hair like that… and there was zero recognition there. She didn't know who I was! Hadn't a clue…" His voice trailed off.

Wil sighed, "Do you think this could be somehow related to Ianto?"

The pain returned to Jack's eyes as he shook his head, "No, I don't see how it could be. There must be some reason she didn't recognize me. I didn't want to push it. With The Doctor, one never knows… Timelines and all. It's just another mystery. I don't want to let it distract me from finding Ianto. He's my priority."

Wil nodded sadly. Ianto's disappearance coincided precisely with the conception of her romance with Jack. The two events were inextricably linked. Jack and her happiness as a couple had from the start been tinged with the sadness of loss. And more: with guilt and, yes, even regret. The two agreed there was nothing to do but push on and continue searching. And hoping. In a strange way their love had been augmented by their common grief. It was one of many, many things they shared.

She scooted around on the bed, hooked her her long legs over his, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. His kisses were spicy, salty, soft and warm, tender and yet hungry. He needed her. Needed her more and more as time progressed. Jack's hands moved to her shirt and with the expertise of familiarity he removed it as she unbuttoned his and slid it from his broad shoulders.

Jack pulled her close, his fingers releasing her long, tangled hair from its ties. He was so thankful for her, he loved her so much and had found such joy and _completeness_ in her. And yet along with the all-encompassing exhilaration there was a perpetual touch of melancholy. No matter how hard he tried to disregard it, it was always present: the sorrow that was Ianto Jones. Same as his love for her, that sorrow had become second nature to him.

He chose to lose himself in her eyes, her lips and her touch. As she opened up her being and gave herself to him, he in turn gifted her with his body and soul, but his heart… his heart was breaking.


	3. Chapter 3

**ABOMINATION**

**THREE**

Gwen Cooper was alone at the Hub, minding the store. As she'd been almost continually since Ianto Jones went missing and Jack Harkness had decided to spend most of his time searching for him; had in fact become obsessed, in Gwen's opinion, with finding him.

She leaned forward and rested her forehead on her hands. She was exhausted. After Ianto disappeared it had been her role to keep things together at Torchwood and to fill in as needed for missing, absent or deceased colleagues. It had been months since she'd been home for more than a few hours at any given time. The stress was incredible and she couldn't help it – she was feeling vaguely psychotic, as if she was losing her sense of reality. Half the time she had no idea what day it was, much less the month or year. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Unthinkingly Gwen reached for her coffee, but then feeling the cold through her fingertips quickly snatched her hand away and in the process accidentally tipped the cup over, spilling oily, brown liquid all over her desk and splattering it onto the floor.

"Shit!" she yelped, although there was no one else at Torchwood to hear her. Tosh and Owen… no, God, wait; Martha Jones (no relation to Ianto) and Mickey Smith were deep in, of all places, the rain forest of Guatemala at an archaeological excavation where it appeared more than just Mayan artifacts had been discovered. They were digging up alien tech in the jungle of Central America. Boatloads of it! Normally the thought would have thrilled Gwen, but now she had to work hard to merely care.

And damn it, she couldn't even keep her own colleagues' names straight. Tosh and Owen had been dead and gone for awhile now. She still missed them, but the mind-numbing grieving and debilitating survivor's guilt had finally, thankfully, dissipated. The three remaining colleagues – Jack, Ianto and she – had worked through the mourning together. They'd supported each other, helped each other and cried on each other's shoulders, and in the end had come out stronger for it. But then, before she knew it, Ianto disappeared, Jack was hell-bent on chasing after him and Martha and Mickey had taken the places of her beloved, departed friends and coworkers… Not that anyone could truly _replace_ either one of them.

Still, during the sorrowful time after the tragic deaths she had become very close to Ianto Jones, that funny, young and, when it came right down to it, rather naïve boy who'd left such a gaping and empty hole with his unexpected departure.

Gwen watched the coffee's slow drip-drip-dripping onto the floor. The puddle on her desk was decreasing in size with each drop, while the little pond on the floor grew correspondingly. She thought it was rather like a clock, marking time, counting down. What would she do when the dripping stopped? She inwardly smiled at herself and then actually giggled out loud. The answer was obvious: she'd have to clean up her mess. Martha and Mickey weren't due to return for a couple of weeks or more, but Jack and Wil could be back within a few short days. It wouldn't do for Jack to find the place a total mess.

She shook her head. As if Jack even gave a shit. It seemed that since Ianto disappeared he didn't care much about anything other than his missing employee. Oh, and his new lover.

Gwen couldn't help but be a little jealous of Wil Beinert, even though the former South Wales police officer had found her own good and decent man: a loving, sympathetic and wonderful husband. Rhys had explained it best to her one night after she'd admitted it to him – she might be married, he'd told her, but she would have to be dead to not be at least a little attracted to Jack. She'd waited, half dreading and half intrigued, for Rhys to admit a similar attraction, but of course her very straight husband never did and never would confess such an unconventional sentiment. Nevertheless, when it came right down to it, Jack Harkness had charisma, charm and an almost irresistible erotic magnetism that went on forever. He was the ultimate heartbreaker and home wrecker. These days Gwen often fantasized about Jack, wondering what it would be like to feel his hands caress her. What it would be like to make love with him…

She shook her head. Yes, she loved Jack as much as she loved anyone in her sorry little existence. She would do anything for him. And that was why she sat alone in the Hub week after week, doing the work of three while Ianto was missing, and her friend, her boss, her Captain, was off looking for him in between fulfilling his usual day job duties, which come to think of it, were relatively few in number these days. _Thanks to her._

If all this meant she was going a little crazy, well, so be it. Anyone who worked for Jack Harkness had to be more than a tiny bit nuts, anyway.

She looked at the clock and did the math. It was time for her to check in with the folks in the field. It'd be early evening in Guatemala and she was yearning to hear a friendly voice or two, even if they were relatively unfamiliar friendly voices. Besides, Mickey Smith had the most wonderful way of making her laugh. She could clean up the coffee later.


	4. Chapter 4

**ABOMINATION**

**FOUR**

The Doctor sneezed several times as he wandered through the TARDIS, peering under tables and inside closets.

"Spike! Spike!" he called out as he lightly tapped on a small china plate with a fork, trying to lure the creature out into the open with the temptation of food. "Where are you Spike?"

The cat was nowhere to be found.

As usual.

The Time Lord muttered something under his breath best left untranslated. His TARDIS had never felt so massive and meandering since he'd been left the sole owner of a cat who liked to play hide and seek. He'd loved Rose and he missed her, he always would, but he rued the day she came home carrying that animal. (1)

And now he felt responsible for it. For _him_, he corrected himself. Prior to leaving his ship for any lengthy amount of time The Doctor felt it incumbent upon himself to make sure Spike was all right. But he couldn't do that if he couldn't find the bloody thing.

He was certain it hadn't gotten out. At least he thought he was certain. He'd never allowed it out intentionally, although the cat had made several serious attempts at the door. That, too, had become a bit of a game. He now had to look around carefully before leaving, and upon his return he'd open the door just a crack and peek inside, down at floor level, to make sure it… _he_ wasn't there waiting to have a go at yet another escape. There'd been a couple of very close calls…

And, truthfully, he didn't want Spike to run off. Spike was the last remaining vestige of Rose, and had outlasted his next two companions, Martha and Donna. Come to think of it, Spike had stayed with him longer than many if not most of his sentient companions. Beyond that, he'd become accustomed to having the cat around; to having Spike sit on his lap and snuggle up to him while he slept. He'd become accustomed to the cat hair on all of his clothes, and the cat toys – fuzzy little mousies and sparkling catnip-filled balls – constantly underfoot. On every world The Doctor visited he always tried to pick up something or another for Spike and by now the TARDIS was filled with toys, toys, and more toys, and at least half of them Spike never looked at twice. In fact, the silly animal seemed to prefer pieces of flotsam and jetsam, bits of old string or rolled up paper.

Ah, he was spoiling the cat…

And single parenthood was a challenge!

He sneezed again ferociously. What he hadn't gotten accustomed to was the watery eyes and the sneezing. But that, and all the handkerchiefs, seemed a small price to pay.

"Okay, I'm done looking for you, Spike," he announced defiantly. "Wherever you are, take note: I'm going out for awhile. I've left you plenty of food and water. Stay off the furniture please, okay?" The Doctor walked across the control room towards the doors and spied a small black and white furball of a critter sitting expectantly by the entrance.

"Oh! There you are, you bad cat you! Where have you been, huh?" He leaned over and affectionately scratched the cat's head. Spike reciprocated by rubbing against The Doctor's leg and purring loudly. "Well, you heard me. I won't say it again," the Time Lord nodded towards a blanket tucked underneath his coat tree. "Go lie down and have a good nap. I'll be back later."

The cat shot him an exasperated look but then went dutifully to his blanket.

"That's a good boy! I'll see you in awhile." The Doctor smiled and walked out of his TARDIS but not before sneezing one more time.

After the door closed Spike immediately ran over to the Captain's chair, jumped up on it, and turned a couple of graceful circles before curling up and promptly falling asleep.

(1) "Prodigals" Chapter 40.


	5. Chapter 5

**ABOMINATION**

**FIVE**

Since the departure of Donna – he vehemently refused to think of it as a death, Caan had been so very wrong about that – The Doctor had filled his time traveling to worlds he knew were populated by the galaxy's most brilliant beings. Wonderful planets with names like Hela and Storm Bird and Sylveste and Third Gazo. Worlds filled with musicians, poets, painters, playwrights and other sundry artists. His plan was to immerse himself in their creative genius; his _hope_ was to distract himself from the most terrible pain of personal loss he had ever felt.

He'd suffered myriad hurts in his many lives, but this one was arguably the worst. He had not been ready to give her up. Not that he had ever been ready to give up any companion, but with Donna Noble there had been so much that yet lay ahead. So much undone. So much to look forward to. So much more to learn and so much left to share.

But worse, far, far worse, was the fact that he'd had to perform the awful, desperate act himself. An act that on some unfathomably dreadful level combined murder and rape, torment and rejection, into one single, unimaginable and terrible deed. He wasn't sure he would be able to ever forgive himself for it, nor forget those final appalling words his companion had uttered as she pleaded for him to stop… to stop what he was doing to her. The way she'd repeated "No" over and over again would clang discordantly forever in his ears. He'd known he had no alternative – it was unquestionably an act of mercy and love as well as desperation – but still it was simply the most horrifying thing he'd ever had to do.

As he'd told Wilfred Mott there at the end as he crouched, cradling Donna outside Sylvia Noble's front door, he needed help. But help with Donna was just the tip of the iceberg. He needed help in so many other ways that he'd lost track and lost count; but there was no one left to help him: he was profoundly alone. And so he had surrounded himself with the best and brightest the galaxy – the universe – had to offer in the hope that some healing would take place.

It was unclear whether or not that hope was being realized.

On all those marvelous worlds he'd kept himself apart, aloof, isolated. Always standing at the rear of the room. Never lingering after a performance to chat. Coming and going like a ghost, always in the back of the crowd, the far corner of the gallery. Avoiding eye contact. Looking around surreptitiously before moving to make sure the chance of striking up a conversation was minimal, the chance of encountering someone who might become a new friend eliminated. It was an odd, solitary sort of existence and ironically one that at a point in the not too distant past he'd actually sought. (1)

He found the isolation barely tolerable; yet solitude was what he desired, maybe what he deserved. Perhaps he was punishing himself. Who knew? Like Jack, he wasn't in the habit of second-guessing his choices.

Jack…

He banished the image and thought from his mind. Captain Jack Harkness, he was sure, had his own destination to seek and his own path to follow. And it had become crystal clear the best thing for Jack was to walk that path without the Time Lord constantly complicating it. Whether such a separation was the best thing for the Time Lord was uncertain at best.

When the sadness, loneliness and despair became too great, he would leave the innumerable radiant worlds of virtuosity, talent and imagination, and retreat to the Brave Woman galaxy. The galaxy of exquisite but reclusive planets Wil Beinert created when she was part Terraformer, part Time Lord, and part something or some _things_ unknowable and inexplicable. (2)

There was comfort for The Doctor in the solitude to be found in the Brave Woman galaxy. The stunningly beautiful yet deserted planets contained no sentient life. To her credit Wil had made certain of that. But the galaxy's worlds abounded in all other forms of diversity. Pick a planet, any planet, and prepare to be amazed! That is what a carnival hawker would proclaim of the Brave Woman galaxy, and it would be true.

And of all the planets in that galaxy the one he found himself most drawn to might not be a total shock to someone who knew him well; yet it might also prove a psychiatrist's field day. It was Wil's meticulous replica of Gallifrey. (3)

It was perfect in every last detail. That is, every last detail, save one.

Gods, how he missed his people. No matter how duplicitous and downright nasty they'd been to him over the centuries, he longed for them. _No one_ should be the last of their race. It was a torture worse than any other. _No one_ should watch as their civilization becomes extinct.

And so after taking his leave of Spike, The Doctor walked through the doors of his TARDIS and found himself once again, as he had many times since losing Donna, on Gallifrey, but not Gallifrey.

He inhaled the balmy, fresh air and took in the scent of the thick, dark red carpet of grass under his feet. Beneath a burnt orange sky holding two suns, one just now rising, a shimmering forest of silver-leafed trees glimmered in bright radiance. Off in the distance were incandescent mountains, and nestled among them was the Citadel – but a desolate Citadel devoid of any Time Lord life. Such sweet ambivalence! The sight both broke his hearts and gifted him with peace.

He gracefully lowered himself cross-legged onto the spongy ground, and then after a moment stretched out his legs and lay back flat on the warm grass. A thought that had been percolating, building itself slowly over the span of his forlorn visits, flew back into his mind and touched his aching soul. If Caan could do it, if Caan could break the Time War's time-lock and survive, why couldn't he?

(1) "Prodigals" Chapter 4.  
(2) "Evolution" Chapter 17.  
(3) "Plague" Chapter 21.


	6. Chapter 6

**ABOMINATION**

**SIX**

Ianto Jones had been hiding in plain sight. Sort of.

One of the devices he'd taken with him that night, that horrible, awful night he watched as his lover Jack Harkness fell in love with someone else (1), was a profoundly powerful piece of alien tech – a phase shifter. That was what they'd called it in-house; its actual name was something like "quantum Casimir multi-dimensional time-space segment modification appliance". Yeah, right: phase shifter. When activated, it allowed him to exist ever-so-slightly out of phase with the spacetime continuum – just enough out of phase so that he was invisible and undetectable to the normal universe and its exquisitely oblivious inhabitants. But the _really_ cool thing was that the known universe was still solid and clearly perceptible to him. It was the perfect stealth apparatus, although he was well aware overuse of said device could have detrimental effects on his mental and/or physical well-being.

Still, despite the known and, granted, unknown risks he found the gadget extremely addictive. He'd finally given in to the temptation of following Jack and Wil home, although he'd stalwartly resisted the urge to intrude on their conjugal privacy. Instead he would stand outside the flat where Wil lived and watch the windows illuminate and then darken as the night progressed. He fully acknowledged it was a sad, pathetic and admittedly creepy thing to do; yet he couldn't help himself: night after night he was drawn there. But, hey, at least he wasn't a voyeur; maybe a stalker, yeah, but definitely not a voyeur. One had to draw the line somewhere. And he knew… he _knew_ that he could stop doing it if he had to. But for now he wouldn't stop. Nor would he likely stop any time real soon. In a well-practiced fashion he shrugged off the shame and ignored the small, tinny voice of his conscience.

He did not blame Jack, or really even Wil, for what had occurred to him. He knew such things often happened. But that isn't saying he didn't loathe Wil Beinert and wish she'd never been born. Nor that he would ever forgive her for causing his heart to shatter, and for tearing his universe asunder. And no doubt about it, he still loved Jack; the dull ache had never gone away; as far as he was concerned it never would.

He used the phase shifter wisely and, he believed, in a fairly restrained manner considering its potentially remarkable capabilities. In all that time he'd never actually left Cardiff, and he took great delight in the wild goose chases to London and points beyond a desperate Jack Harkness had undertaken in search of him. Ianto had in fact managed to arrange those fruitless expeditions because, when used with the utmost caution, the device enabled him to venture inside the Hub unseen and undetected. There he would painstakingly seed their database search queries with false hits. His endeavors got Jack out of the way for days at a stretch and allowed him to spend long periods of time at Torchwood keeping abreast of the latest news and gossip. He usually knew at any given moment, for example, where his colleagues were and what they were doing.

Ianto had _not_ been sad to learn that Rose Tyler disappeared forever from The Doctor's life because he knew she'd played some sort of role in Wil's abduction of Jack's affections. Oh yes, he'd noticed the way the two women had talked, their heads close together, their voices whisper-soft, secret smiles passing between them. But over time his glee mellowed and in the end, after the subsequent departure of Martha Jones and then, according to the rumor, the vanishing of Donna Noble, he began to feel a kind of connection with the Time Lord, who like himself now seemed to be very much alone. At least according to the latest office intel The Doctor was traveling unaccompanied… Just where he was or what he was up to, no one really knew.

Perhaps it was with all the idle speculation that Ianto first fomented the idea: the idea that he might one day travel with The Doctor. Might one day become the Time Lord's companion. It didn't seem unreasonable; not only did he believe that once ensconced in The Doctor's sphere he'd be safe from the pain caused by Jack's abandonment, but it was clear such an arrangement would drive his former lover totally, enormously and perfectly crazy. For the Captain to learn Ianto Jones was traveling with _his_ Time Lord was nothing if not a flawless example of just desserts.

So, yes, Ianto's stealth visits to the Hub were beneficial for him in many ways, yet they were terribly bittersweet as well. He missed his old life but it seemed he was moving exponentially farther and farther from it with each passing day. Lurking about the office emphasized his growing sense of detachment and loss. It was during those visits that he helplessly and with great sadness watched Gwen's slow descent into… what was it? Depression? Neurosis? Psychosis?

And it was during those visits he became the first to notice, just before the shit _really_ hit the fan, a lone woman with long red hair had taken to standing for hours at a time in Roald Dahl Plass, outside the Millennium Centre, staring up at the Water Tower.

(1) "Prodigals" Epilogue.


	7. Chapter 7

**ABOMINATION**

**SEVEN**

For Gwen, Wil and Jack's return to the Hub was entirely unexpected. So unexpected that she was sound asleep at her desk, head nestled on top of her folded arms and hair cascading down and partially veiling her face.

Jack put a hand on Wil's shoulder and halted their arrival in mid-step. Like a proud father observing a slumbering infant, he looked compassionately at the endearing vision of Gwen that appeared before them and raised an index finger to his silent lips.

Wil was certain if Jack hadn't been fearful of waking Gwen he would've exclaimed, "Aww."

But Wil had derived an entirely different impression from the scene. Typical male that he was, Jack had missed the nuances, hadn't noticed the ominous signs. She saw the spilled coffee along with the empty cups, discarded clothing, crumbled up paper and old pizza boxes littering the area and realized instinctively Gwen was in some sort of serious trouble. And it wasn't hard to divine what sort of trouble it was. The woman had been running the place by herself for far too long. It simply couldn't be healthy, and from the look of it, it wasn't.

She turned to Jack, sotto voiced, "I'll wake her up and send her home. Why don't you go to your desk and run a systems check? Find out what we've missed since we left London?"

It seemed a reasonable plan. Jack nodded and soundlessly padded off to his office.

Wil walked over to Gwen and lightly stroked the sleeping woman's hair. "Gwen? Wake up. We're back," she whispered.

With a start Gwen raised her head and gasped softly. She'd been sleeping deeply, dreaming of something… of rain. Did it still rain, she wondered? It had been such a long time since she'd walked in the rain… It had been such a long time since she'd done anything except worry about people and events that were seemingly spiraling out of her control.

"Wil! Hi!" blinked Gwen.

Wil smiled back at her. "Hi back at you, Gwen. How are you doing?"

Gwen rubbed her eyes, pushed back her hair and nodded. "Oh, I'm fine, just fine. We're all fine. Everything is fine. Do you and Jack," she looked around for the Captain and noticed he was already busy in his office, head buried in his laptop, "want a status report?"

"No, no we don't. We want you to go home and stay there. Turn off your Blackberry and don't come back for three days, you got that?"

Gwen shook her head, momentarily confused. "No, I can't do that. I need to be here…"

Wil interrupted her, "No, Gwen, you don't need to be here. You need to take a few days off. Spend some quality time with your husband. Get some sleep." Wil motioned at the pizza boxes and empty coffee cups, "Eat some decent food." She saw the resistance in the other woman's eyes. This wasn't going to be easy; bad habits die hard.

"Gwen, we all recognize you're indispensible, and that you're absolutely essential to Torchwood; and that's why we can't risk you killing yourself over your job. We don't want to hear from you or see you back here for three days. Go take care of your husband – you remember him, don't you? His name is Rhys?" Wil smiled at her. Everyone adored Rhys…

Gwen smiled back. "Really? You're serious? Well, then, okay..." She stood up, looked around guiltily and started picking up empty cups.

Wil placed her hand on Gwen's shoulder, "Forget about cleaning up, Gwen. It's okay. I'll take care of it. _Go. Home._"

"Uh, okay, um, Owen… I mean Mickey, Mickey and Martha…" Wil shot her a warning look. "Right, right, going…" Gwen looked over at Jack, who raised his head and smiled as he nodded exaggeratedly.

Confirmation thus received, Gwen shrugged and began walking towards the door. "Alright then, I guess I'm off?"

Wil reached down, picked up a jacket and tossed it to her. "You might need this, it's raining outside."


	8. Chapter 8

**ABOMINATION**

**EIGHT**

The second of Gallifrey-but-not-Gallifrey's suns was beginning to set in the north.

The Doctor watched the sky turn shades of ochre and orange, sepia and buff, vermillion and amber as the evening moved in silently. The beauty of this world, as always, took his breath away.

But the grass had become chilly and damp. He sat up, raised his knees to his chest, pulled his suit jacket more tightly around his body and shivered. He'd not brought along his coat, but then he hadn't expected to be gone the entire day. Without a companion, with no one to take care of him, he admittedly tended to do rather silly things at times. Like lay daydreaming on soggy grass for hours and hours.

He turned his head and watched as the bright lights of the Citadel slowly turned on amid the darkening skies. He wondered: would the lights come on if no one was there to watch? Would a tree falling in the forest make a sound if no one was there to hear?

Wil had fashioned Gallifrey to suit her own needs at that juncture. From what she'd told him, it had been a very important place for her. With it, she had in a way created a home for herself, without knowing that at a later point it would become a sort of home for The Doctor as well. A place where, like her, he could spend time thinking about his life, his world, and his people.

Or maybe she _had_ known…

His thoughts actually weren't all that complicated. He wanted his people and his world back. Restored. Extant. It was simple, really.

What wasn't so simple was how it might be done. But if Caan could break the War's time-lock, so could he. He was confident he would be able to accomplish it without losing his mind, as had happened to Caan. And even if he did lose his mind, well… he was quite certain that to continue on alone, without his people, was not the road he wanted to travel.

The Time War and its aftermath had morphed time into a corrosive fluid, dissolving motivation, destroying novelty and leaching the joy from his life. He could see nothing good about continuing to exist like that. Nothing good at all.

And once he broke the time-lock, he would do something, anything, _everything_, to stop his world from burning. It was monumental to be sure, but really quite straightforward; his goal was clear: stop the war, save his people. Or die trying.

But he couldn't do it alone. He needed help.

There was only one person he knew who could help him. One man in the entire universe who _would_ help him…

Jack Harkness.

Funny, he had spent so very long trying to chase the thought of Jack and the image of Jack from his mind… but all of a sudden that was no longer necessary and the intense emotions conjured by the mere idea of his friend were amazing. For The Doctor, evoking and embracing Jack was like the opposite of despair. It was like embracing light, warmth and life. He saw Jack's smile, heard his laugh, felt his touch and he knew what he was feeling was, simply put, right.

He couldn't imagine why it had taken him so long to figure it out.

It made him laugh out loud. He needed Jack and it felt wonderful to admit it. It was wonderful because needing Jack was like admitting he needed to breathe. It was so obvious and so elemental and so perfect.

Yes, it was good.

But how should he approach Jack? He reckoned, no… he _knew_ that Jack had moved on. It wasn't that Jack had left him; no, they shared a link that was everlasting. But there, in his TARDIS, the two of them overlooking the magnificent rings of Saturn, The Doctor had felt a sort of psychological separation taking place. (1) At the time he believed it necessary, proper and healthy. He still did. But that was then and this… well, this was now. And now he needed Jack, and he knew unequivocally that Jack would be there for him just as he would always, _always_ be there for Jack.

It's what they did.

But still, approaching Jack would require some forethought. Some finesse. And some careful preparation… wouldn't it? All things The Doctor wasn't exactly known for.

He stiffly stood up and then raised himself higher on his toes, stretching out his legs and arching his back. He would head back to his TARDIS and check on Spike, and maybe they'd have a nice chat about Jack; sometimes it helped him to bounce ideas off the cat. He raised an eyebrow and wondered whether Jack liked twenty-first century Earth felines. If not, well, he supposed Jack would just have to cope.

(1) "Prodigals" Chapter 39.


	9. Chapter 9

**ABOMINATION**

**NINE**

Wil walked into Jack's office, sat down in the chair at the front of his desk and, as usual, picked up the piece of coral that he kept along with all the other bric-a-brac.

Funny, she thought. The coral felt different. It felt somehow heavier. And it seemed to have a slightly different shape… How could that be? She closed her eyes and rolled it around in her hands for several moments before putting it back down. She must be mistaken…

She looked up to see Jack watching her, a bemused look on his face.

"You really like that thing, don't you?" he remarked.

Slightly embarrassed, Wil shrugged. "I don't know; there's something about it that makes me want to touch it. Has been ever since I first knew this place, knew you…"

Jack laughed. "I know. I remember taking it from you the first time you picked it up; I thought you might drop it." (1)

He glanced down at it and then looked back up at her, "But it's nothing special, just an old piece of coral."

She raised an eyebrow over a sparkling green eye, "Yeah, I know, nothing special. Just like a lot of the stuff in your office is nothing special. Or at least that's what you keep telling us. What you want us to believe."

"It's true." He stood up and walked around his desk. "Well, not quite true. There is one _very_ special thing in my office." As she rose from her seat he took her face in his hands and kissed her gently. When she responded hungrily he kissed her harder, moving his hands unhurriedly down her back until they reached her hips. Once there, his strong fingers pulled her into him. They were of a similar height, Jack and Wil, and it was thrilling to feel her pressing against him. With a surge he felt himself stiffen…

Reluctantly Jack broke off the kiss, inhaled deeply and leaned back, examining her face, his hands still resting on her waist.

"I noticed Gwen, you know," he said. "Don't think I didn't. She's a mess. We all are, and no matter how difficult it might be, perhaps it is time to go back to business as usual at Torchwood?"

Wil realized it was not merely a rhetorical question. Jack was asking her if they should break off the search for Ianto. He was asking her if they should give up. If they should quit. If they should leave a man behind. It was, to be sure, a loaded question. But she had always been honest with him and wasn't about to stop now.

"You told me once that you knew how sad change can be." (2) She paused, carefully considering her next words. "I know you were talking about something… _someone_ else at the time, but I believe the statement applies here as well. We've given it our best shot and although it's going to be hard, I agree it may be time to put the past behind us and move forward. Otherwise…"

"Otherwise," he interrupted her, "worse things are going to happen."

She shrugged, "Yeah, something like that."

Jack released her and looked away. She suspected there were tears in his eyes. It was going to be very difficult for him to let go of his fixation. She watched as he picked up the piece of coral she'd just been holding. He moved it back and forth, from hand to hand, as he stared down at it like it was a Magic 8 Ball: _Yes. No. Reply hazy, try again_… Then he pressed it to his heart.

Wil knew at that moment he had decided. She held her breath without realizing it. The choice he made would have far-reaching effects, of that she was certain: profound effects on Torchwood and maybe even on the nature of their relationship. But whatever his decision and its consequences, she'd support him. She always did. Always would.

Jack looked up at her. His face was tear-streaked but his eyes were clear and resolute. "Then that's it," he said determinedly. "Ianto is history and we'll keep an eye out for an eventual replacement. In the meantime, the staff deserves a short sabbatical. I like what you told Gwen. I'm going to call Mickey and tell him that they should wrap up the Guatemala stuff as quickly as possible and head somewhere pleasant, like maybe the Virgin Islands, for some R and R. They can stay at the safe house on Tortola."

Still holding the coral close to his breast, Jack reached out with is other hand and touched Wil's face. "And what would you like to do?"

Wil smiled and raised her hand up to his, moved it to her lips and kissed it. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Well, I know what I'd like to do right now," he winked at her, "but I think you should go home. Maybe pick up some stuff for a curry tonight. I'll call Mickey, feed the Pterodactyl, and then close the office up nice and tight. How does that sound?"

Wil was still pressing his hand against her face. She briefly took his little finger into her mouth and nibbled on its tip before replying. "Well, you are a tease Jack Harkness, and I'm a bit disappointed, but I can wait. I'll make you a nice dinner and then perhaps we'll recommence what you've started here." She kissed his hand one more time before releasing it and making ready to leave.

He watched her appreciatively as she smoothed her hair and adjusted her clothing. And she knew he was watching her… And he knew that she knew that he was watching her…

"Hurry home, okay?" she said huskily before walking out the door.

"You bet! Oh, and maybe you should pick up some croissants for breakfast? Something tells me that we're not going to be wanting to go out tomorrow morning."

He smiled wickedly at her as she blew him a kiss and left.

(1) "Revelations" Chapter 30.  
(2) "Prodigals" Epilogue.


	10. Chapter 10

**ABOMINATION**

**TEN**

Coincidentally, or maybe not, Ianto was lurking outside on the Roald Dahl Plass when Wil left. He watched as she purposefully walked alone down the street, eventually disappearing around the corner.

And earlier he had seen Gwen leave in her car.

It was unusual, to say the least, to know Jack was alone in the Hub. Ianto wasn't quite certain what was going on but suspected there was some reason Jack wanted to be by himself; or perhaps the boss was simply giving his employees some well-deserved time off. Or, paying homage to Occam's razor, maybe it was simply random chance. Everything didn't always have to be about Jack…although everything almost always was.

Whatever. Even though Ianto was tempted to venture inside and investigate, he decided it was too risky. Having Jack alone in the office and perhaps undistracted hypothetically meant that the Captain might somehow become aware of his presence. Jack was too wily, and too savvy, for Ianto to leave something like that to mere chance. Gwen had been one thing – and as she'd deteriorated mentally it became less and less dicey to spend time inside Torchwood when she was there alone. But Jack? No… No freakin' way.

He'd just have to hang out and wait. And that was okay. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do.

Looking around, he suddenly realized that _she_ was back: the red-haired woman. The woman who he'd observed several times over the last couple of days. He had not noticed her arrival, but there she was now, as usual, standing next to the Water Tower and staring up at it like it was the most interesting object on the planet.

The mysterious woman was too well-dressed to be indigent. And while it was conceivable she was simply insane, there was something about her that made Ianto doubt that explanation. She simply didn't look crazy. Her clothing, her makeup, her jewelry all gave her the appearance of a normal, middle-class working woman.

But then what was she doing? It didn't make a whole lot of sense. If she followed her usual behavior pattern she'd stand for several hours, unmoving, and then eventually depart. Ianto wasn't sure where she went when she left; he'd never followed her, although now that he thought of it maybe he should've.

It wasn't that she was sinister or menacing. Nothing about her indicated that she posed a threat, and surely that explained why Gwen hadn't bothered to notice her. The woman was in fact entirely unremarkable, which again now that he thought of it was remarkable in itself.

Ianto considered approaching her, starting up a conversation. But to do that he'd have to deactivate the phase shifter and expose himself to anyone else who might be watching. And there was no doubt in his mind that if he did Jack would spot him. Scratch that option.

A second option would be to follow her when she left, and if and when it felt safe to approach her, perhaps strike up a conversation then. That was a more reasonable plan, but the thought of deactivating the device _anywhere _in public still deeply worried him. Torchwood had many eyes, both human and electronic. Worse yet, it would mean he'd have to leave the area and miss any further developments relating to Jack.

A third option occurred to Ianto just then. He could walk up to the woman in stealth mode and take a closer look. Maybe he would be able to see something that'd help him figure out who she was and what she was doing. It was risk-free and he had nothing to lose by trying. Plus it had the added benefit of taking up some of his abundant free time while he waited for Jack. _Win-win_.

The decision thusly made, he straightened his invisible tie with an invisible hand, walked across the Plass and stood next to the red-haired woman.

Who then to his great astonishment proceeded to speak to him! Still looking up at the Tower she said in a deceptively pleasant-sounding voice, "Go away or I'll kick you so hard you will never have children of your own."

Ianto was flabbergasted. "You… you… you… can see me?"

The woman turned her head slightly, glared at him and scowled impatiently, "'Course I can."

"But how?"

"I've been out of phase myself, Dumbo. And once you've been, you never lose the ability to see others who are the same. _Ownay amscray idkay_. I'm busy."

Ianto had recovered enough from the shock to know this might be his only chance, "Busy doing what?"

_-00-_

_The board is set, the pieces are moving. We come to it at last... _


	11. Chapter 11

**ABOMINATION**

**ELEVEN**

After Wil left, Jack stood resting against the edge of his desk, holding the piece of coral that had mysteriously appeared on his old mahogany escritoire one day thirty or so years previously. Or was it fifty? Time did fly...

He stood there for a long time.

And he began to feel strange.

At first he thought maybe he was getting sick. It felt like he had a fever. Red curtains were being pushed into his vision. He felt weak, disoriented.

He blacked out. Still standing, had a moment of fleeting consciousness. Blackout again. There was a roaring in his ears. What he saw through his eyes were distorted angles, jumbled snapshots. It wasn't right.

Blackout again and then he came around. In a moment of lucidity the lights flickered, the walls went gray, then black. When the illumination came back on he saw the flashing warning lights. Torchwood was under lockdown. He shivered.

Blackout again. A sensation of falling when he came around. "Executive override," he tried to whisper. He couldn't hear himself. He was going down again. The world faded to black.

When he came around he felt like he was upside down. Everything was immensely still. It was as if he'd been planted there centuries ago and had only just opened his eyes.

But he did not think he'd been unconscious for long. His memories were very clear. The wonder of it, really, was not that he was remembering but that he was alive at all. Or was he?

Gently, he tried to move, but failed. As he did, the room seemed to creak around him. Everything was blurred, as if seen through a thin gray veil. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw one of the lockdown warning lights, but when he tried to pay attention to it he realized he couldn't focus on anything.

"Executive override," he tried to say once more, but he had no voice.

He tried to move again, but there was intense discomfort. _Forget that._

Subjective time seemed to stretch to an eternity.

How long until someone came for him? How long could he last?

The blackouts seemed to have stopped for the time being. Did it make any difference whether or not he panicked? He mulled this over, feeling that it was important to know. He thought it would be good to try to maintain clarity of mind, but then of what use was it if there was nothing he could do to help himself?

He was afraid he was going to die. Really afraid. Really die. But this being the case, he was hoping he would at least die with the illusion that he was in the presence of something larger than himself, something that cared for him and was there to watch over him as he faded away. He tried to empty his mind, inviting in the sensation of peace and comfort that such an illusion would offer. He was looking for the bright white light off in the distance that he'd heard so much about.

But nothing came.

He laughed soundlessly. There was nothing to hear but silence. Nothing to see but gray. Nothing to feel but dullness.

He slipped in and out of consciousness. With each transition the difference between the two states became less clear cut. He hallucinated and then hallucinated that the hallucinations were real. He'd see things – rescuers – as if through gauze. He'd see Wil or Ianto or even The Doctor, waving at him, trying to speak to him.

Gradually the hallucinations took precedence over rational thought. In a fleeting period of lucidity it occurred to him that the kindest thing would be for one of the hallucinations to occur just as he died, so that he could be spared the final, jolting descent into death. And which hallucination would he choose to die by? Wil? Ianto? His father? John? The Doctor?

Such a choice.

He kept waking up but the hallucinations blurred into one another. It was during one of those wakeful periods that he first heard the music. Keyboard music. Bach, he thought. He could barely hear it at first but it grew in intensity and, at the same time, his gray feeling of dullness was replaced by an increasing intensity of emotions that he'd never experienced before.

He knew now for certain, he wasn't going to make it.


	12. Chapter 12

**ABOMINATION**

**TWELVE**

"Busy doing what?" Ianto asked her again as she stood dead still, looking back at him silently.

Her expression did not change but something in her eyes set off alarms in his head.

Something wasn't right.

"Oh my," she gasped, her eyes suddenly growing larger, as if she'd just witnessed the most astonishing spectacle.

Then, to his horror and dismay as he watched, her irises rolled up into her skull and she collapsed in a heap on the pavement.

"Bloody hell!" Without thinking he quickly looked around and realizing no one was observing them, clicked off the phase shifter. There was the usual momentary feeling of discombobulating metamorphosis and then he was crouching down at the fallen woman's side.

Later he would look back on his actions and wonder what had possessed him to proceed as he did. It would've been so easy to have simply walked away…

But at the time he believed if he acted quickly enough and could make their combined profile small enough he just might be able to encompass her within his phase segment. He picked up the woman, who was heavier than he expected, hugged her closely to his chest and reactivated the device. Then he paused, trying to figure out if he'd succeeded in cloaking the both of them or not. Ah! Right! The Tower! He examined it and saw that neither of them was reflected in the cascading water.

The next step would be to get her inside the Hub. He already knew from experience it would be simple enough for him to walk in through the front office and then head down into the tunnels. That was how he'd done it in the past and the requisites he needed to breach Torchwood security were already in place. There was a likelihood that Jack would sooner or later – probably sooner! – detect him, but that seemed unimportant in contrast to the woman he currently cradled in his arms, the woman who'd so surprisingly confessed to having been phase shifted.

Now that had been a shocker.

But, aside from her astonishing statement, something intangible that he'd not yet quite gotten a handle on had led Ianto to believe the woman was important. Important beyond the phase shifting admission, and way beyond what had occurred between Jack and him.

Consequences be damned, he entered the special access codes that got the two of them inside the Hub. It was as usual easy to walk in cloaked, and he quickly and silently carried the woman through a series of underground passageways to the medical bay's ICU.

As he laid her on a bed and stepped back, allowing her body to separate from the phase segment, he started considering his next action. He'd have to go to Jack and inform him. Once he told his story, everything that followed would be up to the Captain's discretion... He would have to put himself at Jack's mercy. It was a frightening thought to be sure, yet Ianto felt a wave of relief wash over him as if he was waking from a terrible nightmare.

It was only after he turned to leave that he realized Torchwood was under lockdown. The emergency lights were madly flashing. Ianto felt a momentary sense of shock and disbelief. How could he not have noticed? He stopped dead in his tracks.

Apparently the phase device had permitted him to enter the secured Hub unhindered. _That_ was curious.

Curious, but not nearly as interesting – or worrisome – as _why_ the facility had gone into lockdown.

Ianto deactivated the phase device, calmed himself and waited. Nothing changed. Okay, so it was likely the device itself hadn't caused the emergency. What could it have been?

He looked at the person lying motionless on the bed. He was reasonably sure it wasn't her presence that had set off the alarm. Intuitively he ascertained the lockdown must've started before they'd entered. But why? He was torn between trying to help the woman and leaving her where she lay in order to investigate what was going on.

The thought occurred to him that since he was no longer phase shifted Jack should've detected him. Knowing Jack, the Captain normally would have stormed in by now, pissed off as hell and armed for bear. But he hadn't. Things weren't normal.

Something was very wrong indeed, and while Ianto felt responsible for the unfortunate woman, she was as safe in the medical bay as anywhere else in the facility. He could lock her inside so she couldn't leave and get into trouble. Not that she couldn't cause a fair amount of trouble where she was, Ianto thought, as he glanced around at the facility and all of its high-tech gadgetry. He briefly considered restraining her to the bed, but decided it would be an unacceptably cruel thing to do.

At that moment all Ianto knew for certain was that he must find Jack. So he walked out of the room and with a final fleeting look at the red-haired woman, closed and locked the door behind him.


	13. Chapter 13

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTEEN**

Wil was back at her flat chopping cauliflower when the alarm on her Blackberry went wild.

At first she didn't know what in the hell it was. That is, to be more precise, she knew it was her Blackberry going nuts — but as to why it was making loud and panicky sounds she had no idea. She'd never heard the thing shriek like that before; didn't even know it could. For a long moment she was totally mystified and stared down at it, shaking her head, as if it was shouting at her in an unfamiliar foreign language.

Finally her brain caught up with what her eyes were seeing and her ears were hearing. The realization left her feeling sick: Torchwood had gone into lockdown. _Jack…_

"Oh my God!" she groaned as she grabbed the device and frantically started punching in numbers. First she tried to call Jack's cell. No answer. She tried several other lines at Torchwood. Ditto. Then she tried to call Gwen and got her voicemail. "Damn it!" Wil swore, remembering she'd ordered Gwen to turn off her mobile just a few hours earlier.

_Jack…_

Wil ran upstairs to the study and rummaged through the piles of papers on the desk. She knew she'd scribbled down Rhys and Gwen's land line number on something – something like the back of an old envelope – sometime in the not-too-distant distant past, and had kept it. She'd just seen it again recently… But where? There! There it was! She punched in the number and got their answering machine. "Please leave a message," the disembodied voice of Rhys Williams said cheerfully, "and we'll..."

"Crap!" Wil responded, after killing the call.

She didn't know what to do. Well, yes she did. She had to leave; she needed to go back to the Hub and try to get inside. And find Jack.

Wil yanked the hot curry pan off the stove, ran cold water into it until the sizzling stopped, and dropped the whole mess into the sink with a loud clang. Then she turned off the burner and looked round for her running shoes. It was at that point that she noticed her eyes were filled with tears. No doubt about it, she was scared. _Really_ scared. She hated not knowing what in the hell was going on. And she _really_ hated that she felt so damned alone.

_Jack…_

Closing her eyes, she took a deep slow breath and tried to focus. It wasn't normal for her to freak out this way. She felt all inside-out, and knew she was better than that, stronger than that, smarter than that. She willed herself to be calm and then finally conjured a clear picture of what she must do.

Wil quickly pulled on her sweats and laced up her trainers. Next she went back to the desk and opened a box containing the semi-automatic Desert Eagle pistol that Jack kept inside. After checking to make sure it was locked and loaded, she dropped the gun into her backpack and shrugged the knapsack onto her shoulders.

Wil flew down the stairs, through the front door of the flat, and out onto the street. Then she began running as if her life depended on it.


	14. Chapter 14

**ABOMINATION**

**FOURTEEN**

As Ianto moved away from the medical bay towards the center of the Hub the quality of the lighting gradually changed, became darker. As he got closer to Jack's office, the interior of the building seemed to glow golden-green, firefly pale. He didn't like it. Not one bit...

He stopped at one of the computer consoles and logged in using the root account he'd been using. Because of the lockdown all rights and functions were restricted. Nothing useful could be obtained from the computer system without a minimum of two staff members authenticating. In frustration he hit the desk with his fist. _Shit._

Out of the corner of his eyes, in the direction of Jack's office, he thought he saw something move. He couldn't tell what it was and he started rummaging around for a torch to help with the dim lighting. He finally found one near his old desk and turned it on, the light suddenly dancing in front of him.

"Jack?" he called out tentatively. "Are you in there? It's Ianto, Jack. Are you okay?"

He moved closer, cautiously, his imagination running wild.

He focused the light of his torch into the office and looked properly, there was definitely something there. Something was there in Jack's office.

But it wasn't Jack.

In the faint light it looked like a strange kind of machinery. But it wasn't just machinery. It seemed to be organized, gathered together, lashed into something larger.

It was man-shaped.

Ianto felt his knees go weak and the bile rise in his throat. He wanted to run but something stopped him. He knew his hands were shaking because the light of his torch was moving erratically. He focused the beam on the object and it looked at him. The head – it was made up of what looked like hundreds of squirming little bits – moved, as if acknowledging him. And then he saw something in the face, like an expression. It wasn't just a machine, there was a mind there.

Out of nowhere a steady, damp breeze blew up. With it came a concoction of sickly biomechanical smells. The breeze hit him in the face and mussed his hair.

It was that gust of fetid air that pushed him over the edge. It was as if a tiny switch had flipped in his mind. Ianto dropped his torch and screamed. Suddenly all other concerns melted away. He no longer was thinking of Jack or the mysterious red-haired woman. His only thought was that he had to get the hell out, no matter what. He ran to the door and when it didn't budge, he screamed again. How could he be fucking locked inside _with that thing_?

He tried to open the door, again and again, with no success.

But then he realized – the phase device! – he needed to activate it. But he didn't have it! Where was it? What had he done with it? He'd just had it... He knew he did. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, the universe was going crazy…

He looked around frantically, mentally trying to retrace his steps. He'd been in the medical bay, and deactivated the device there, but then had taken it with him. He distinctly remembered that. He remembered having it in his hand. Oh! The computer console! He must've left it there. He ran back over to the workstation but as he did his eye caught a fuzzy image displaying on an external building monitor. What he saw both relieved and scared him. But it didn't scare him nearly as much as whatever was inside Jack's office.

He grabbed the phase shifter, activated it, and headed for the door and what he hoped was safety.


	15. Chapter 15

**ABOMINATION**

**FIFTEEN**

Wil was standing at the Water Tower helpless as an infant and strung tight as a drum when Gwen and Rhys approached her.

"Wil! What's going on?" an alarmed Gwen called out.

"Gwen! Rhys! What are you doing here?" cried Wil.

"When we got back to the flat the caller ID on our answering machine told us you'd phoned, but hadn't left a message. We were worried so we came here straight away. What happened?" Gwen asked again, this time even more urgently.

"Torchwood has gone into lockdown! Jack's in there, alone, Gwen. Something awful has happened, I just know it. We need to get inside!"

Gwen shook her head sadly. "There's no way we can get in if there's a containment lockdown."

Wil's eyes were wild as she frantically grabbed Gwen's arm. "What do you mean? There's got to be a way in!"

Rhys stepped forward and firmly removed Wil's hand from Gwen's wrist. "Darling, if Gwen says there's no way, then there's no way. She wouldn't lie to you now would she?"

Wil was not to be placated. "I don't believe you. Either one of you. It's just fucking stupid that we can't get in there. Of course there's a way. There's always a way!"

Again Gwen shook her head and reached out to the distraught woman while Rhys eyed his wife's colleague worriedly.

"I'm sorry, Wil," Gwen said softly. "Now listen to me. Please. You must try to calm down. As long as the Hub's under lockdown, there's no way to get inside. I swear to you, I'm telling you the truth. By definition lockdown doesn't allow anyone to go in or come out."

A fourth and highly improbable voice came out of nowhere and surprisingly joined in the conversation. "Well, that's not entirely true..."

Wil instantly recognized the astonishing voice. With a quickness that was mind-boggling she pulled out her pistol, spun round and aimed it lethally at the head of an uncloaked and suddenly extremely stunned Ianto Jones.

"What have you done to him?" Wil growled. Rhys and Gwen stepped back in shock.

Ianto quickly raised his hands up into the air, palms facing outward in surrender, and in doing so dropped a small, oddly-shaped silvery gadget onto the concrete, where it bounced a couple of times, skidded for a few inches and then came to a stop. "Don't shoot!" he pleaded. "I had nothing to do with the lockdown. But I have a way we can get inside!"

"Wil," Rhys stepped forward, speaking softly. "Put the gun down. I think he's telling the truth. You don't want to shoot him, Wil."

Wil didn't move a centimeter. She had the gun aimed right between Ianto's eyes.

Rhys tried again, this time a bit more forcefully. "Wil, give me the gun. Give it to me _now_ before you hurt someone. I know you don't want to harm anyone. Let's listen to what the man has to say."

Wil blinked, slowly lowered her weapon and after what seemed like an eternity handed it to Rhys, who put it in his pocket after clicking on the safety. The color had drained entirely from Wil's face. Believing the woman was going to faint, Gwen went to her and put a steadying arm around Wil's shoulders before addressing Ianto.

"Okay," Gwen hissed. "Tell us what you know. Make it fast, and keep your hands in the air where we can see them."

"Right! It's that device," he nodded at the ground where the phase shifter lay and took a deep breath. "I was just inside with it. I carried a woman who collapsed out here on the Plass into the Hub, a red-haired woman. I didn't know that the facility was under lockdown. The device allowed me to walk right in and then let me get back out after I saw…"

He blanched.

"Saw what?" asked Rhys.

Ianto looked from Rhys to Wil to Gwen and then back at Wil, where his gaze finally rested. There was compassion in his eyes. And fear. "I saw something horrible. I don't know what it was. It scared me so badly I left without that poor woman, without seeing Jack!"

Gwen shook her head. "Wait. Back it up. What woman? Who's this woman you keep talking about?"

"The red-haired woman. She's got long red hair. I've been seeing her around here a lot the last couple of days. She comes and stares at the Water Tower. I'm sure you've seen her, Gwen, but you've not noticed her. She comes, she stares, she leaves…

"A bit ago I spoke with her. She knew things… Knows things. Surprising things. But then something happened: she collapsed. I didn't know what to do so I brought her inside Torchwood. I was only thinking of her, but now she's in there with… with…"

He looked desperately at the three other people, "…with something terrible."

"Red-haired woman?" It was Wil coming back from a nearly catatonic state. "Did you say red-haired woman?"

Ianto hiccupped and nodded.

"What is it Wil?" asked Gwen.

"Well, Jack mentioned when we were last in London looking for _you_," her eyes flashed accusingly at Ianto, "that he ran into someone named Donna. Donna Noble. Someone he'd known from traveling with The Doctor. He spoke with her but she refused to acknowledge that she knew him."

"So?" Rhys responded.

"So – Donna Noble has long red hair."


	16. Chapter 16

**ABOMINATION**

**SIXTEEN**

Gwen thought Wil would implode or start bleeding from her ears or something when she informed her that they'd do absolutely nothing until she spoke with Martha Jones.

Fortunately Gwen managed to get Martha on the phone immediately. The conversation was not a long one. This was partly because it was in the middle of the night for Martha, partly because the woman really didn't have all that much to contribute.

After ending the call Gwen updated the rest of the group.

"Donna Noble is either The Doctor's current or most recent companion. At least that is what Martha thinks. She's not totally certain which; no one knows for sure if she's still traveling with him or not. Donna has long red hair and, Martha estimates, is about five feet eight inches tall, in her mid- to late-thirties, and a bit on the pleasingly plump side. Or so Martha says. She doesn't know much about Donna other than she's from Chiswick in West London and that she's got a rather strange employment history. Evidently Donna Noble doesn't really have a career; she's a temp worker. She primarily does secretarial stuff. And she likes to move around a lot."

Wil impatiently rolled her eyes, "Well that's a fine lifestyle choice for a Time Lord's companion! Does Martha know what Donna might be doing alone here in Cardiff?"

"No. She says she hasn't a clue. I'm sure you heard my response when Martha asked if Mickey and she should head back immediately. Torchwood Institute policy is very clear in this regard – in these types of situations staff need to stay geographically separate in case there is a major loss of life in a given location."

"Oh, how lovely," mumbled Rhys.

Gwen ignored his comment, "So they'll be staying put for now. _And_ expecting updates a minimum of every eight hours. If they don't hear from us in twenty-four hours, they will assume the worst and bring in UNIT."

Gwen put her phone away. "Ianto, shall we have a look at this device of yours?"

The phase shifter was still lying on the pavement. The four of them changed position slightly and for a moment stood staring at it.

Ianto had lowered his hands, but was still keeping them in plain sight. "It's a quantum spacetime appliance," he explained. "In other words, it allows the person using it to phase shift just enough to be rendered invisible and undetectable to the present universe and its residents." He smiled, "It's really quite brilliant. When you're shifted everything appears normal, but no one can see you."

Gwen eyed him suspiciously, "So you've been using this phase shifting device to keep tabs on us? To spy on us?"

He nodded guiltily. "I'm sorry, yes, I have. I've been inside the Hub many times." He stopped there, realizing any further disclosures might be detrimental to his health if not his life.

Wil was starting to get anxious again. "You said you had a way for us to get inside. How would that work?"

"I always suspected the segment boundaries could extend beyond my immediate body, like a bubble. I tried it and I was able to carry the woman – Donna, if that's her name – into the Hub. I don't know how much area the bubble can encompass, but we can experiment. I'm certain it will allow at least two of us to enter. Maybe more. If not…"

"If not," Gwen interrupted him, "you will get us in one at a time." She nodded her head. "This can work. I'll go in first with Ianto…"

"No, Gwen," hissed Wil menacingly. "I'll go in first."

"Wil, I'm second in command. It's my job to go in first. You may be Jack's girlfriend, but you're just a regular employee. Still, we're jumping the gun. The bubble may be able to include us all, as Ianto suggests."

She looked at her erstwhile colleague. "Pick it up, slowly. Let's take this one step at a time."

Ianto leaned down and picked up the device. A tiny corner of it remained on the ground. They all stood wide-eyed, gaping in disbelief at the broken shard left on the pavement.

"Oh no," Ianto breathed as he straightened up. "That can't be good."

"You mean it may not work?" asked Rhys.

"I mean it is a complicated and powerful instrument. Right now it is tuned specifically to phase shift me. But I believe it can do other things, it can interact in other ways with spacetime."

Wil whispered, "What you're saying is that you can't predict what it will do when you turn it on?"

He nodded mutely.

"Oh God," said Rhys. "You mean this thing may not be safe to use any more?"

"That's exactly what I mean. But there's only one way to find out. I have to activate it."

"I don't think that's wise," said Gwen.

"But it's our only hope!" argued Wil.

Gwen turned on her, eyes blazing. "You may not care if Ianto gets killed, or worse things happen, but I do!"

"Gwen," admonished Rhys, "don't be cruel.

"Maybe we should try to fix it?" Rhys added hopefully, peering at the small part lying on the ground.

Gwen shook her head, "We'd need to be inside Torchwood to do that."

"No, Wil's right," Ianto murmured looking down at the device in his hand. "This _is_ our only hope. Jack's depending on us."

Gwen was not happy. "I don't like it. We have no idea what might happen, and for all we know, it could do something to fuck up the whole city or the entire planet. It's too dangerous."

Ianto raised the hand holding the device to his chest, "We don't know that." He lifted his other hand, cradling it. "For all we know…" He closed his eyes and activated it.


	17. Chapter 17

**ABOMINATION**

**SEVENTEEN**

The Lord of Time was sitting on the floor of the control room, surrounded by eight or nine small plates of cat food. The cat was a few feet away from him, licking a paw.

"Come on, Spike! Why won't you eat?" The Doctor picked up one of the plates and sniffed it, trying not to gag. "Yum! Chicken and liver! You like chicken and liver, don't you? At least you did yesterday when you ate it. Won't you have some now?"

He put the plate down and gently patted the decking with his hand, hoping the cat would come closer. It didn't.

Looking around he selected another plate and raised it approximately to feline line-of-sight. "How about this one? Gourmet salmon? Doesn't that sound yummy?" He slid the plate across the floor towards the cat. The cat just stared at it.

He lowered his head to the cat's eye level, "No? No fishies? Don't want fishies?"

There was no response.

"Alright, then… Well, that's enough of that." The Doctor stood and stretched, then sneezed. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting bored with this game. Rose always said you'd eat when you were good and ready, and apparently you are neither. That's fine. You don't have to eat if you don't want to!

"Not now, not later, not _ever_," he muttered under his breath as he walked past the console to the other side of the room.

"How about we go see Jack, huh?" The Time Lord dropped to his knees and lifted a section of the flooring up. He was rooting around for something.

"You remember, I told you about Jack, didn't I? He's an old friend. A good friend." He glanced over at the cat and shrugged. "Other than you, he's like the only friend I have right now. And doesn't that sound pathetic? Anyway… ah! There it is!" He pulled a white rubber dishpan out from the storage area and then stood.

"As I was saying, Jack will do anything I ask him to do. He's that kind of friend. Oh, don't think I'm using him. I'd do anything he asked me to do as well…" The Doctor was gingerly picking up cat dishes and placing them into the pan. "Well… _almost_ anything. But that's beside the point! He's saved my life more times than I can remember, and I've returned the favor. But who's keeping track? It's what we do!"

He picked up the last plate, deposited it and then went back to the storage area and dropped the entire mess underneath the floor. He replaced the grate, stood up and rubbed his hands together lightly as if knocking off any stray bits of cat food.

"There! We'll deal with that later, won't we? No, it's not like Jack owes me, or I owe him. We've just always been there for each other and we have a very special relationship…"

The Doctor put his hands into his pockets and looked up at the TARDIS central column. "In fact, I love him. I love him more than anyone else in this universe. I don't think I've ever told him in those exact words," for a moment he tilted his head, pondering something unfathomable, "and God knows I should, but I'm pretty sure Jack understands. And I know that he loves me and that he'd do anything, even die for me – he _has_ died for me, Spike, several times! – but I would never, ever intentionally cause him pain or harm.

"Of course he's done some other stuff on my behalf that I've not been so happy about…" (1), (2), (3)

He paused briefly and allowed the memories to wash over him. "But that's Jack! He's complex. It's one of the reasons I love him. He's complex and passionate and brave and honest and caring and intelligent and sometimes _incredibly_ stupid." The Time Lord smiled, his eyes lighting up. "And he's loyal as the day is long. He's all those things and more, much more. But what he really is, is important. And not just to me. Oh no. He's important to the entire universe. Although I can't tell him that because it'd make him even more arrogant and insufferably narcissistic than he is already…" The Doctor chuckled and fondly shook his head.

"So, one of my jobs is to keep Jack safe, although I can never tell him that, either. There are some other things I can't tell him as well, it's one of _those _kinds of relationships. But… not included in that list of unspeakable topics is that I love him and need him.

"So what do you say we go tell him?" He looked down at Spike who, with bright green eyes, attentively watched The Doctor as he paced around his ship's control room. "What do you say we go to Cardiff and pay Jack a visit, eh? And ask him if he'll help me get my people back?"

The Doctor spun a few dials on the console and his ship's rota began rising and falling as Spike watched it curiously.

"_Fantastique, mon chat! Allons-y_!"

(1) "Big Bang" Part 9.  
(2) "Revelations" Chapter 26.  
(3) "Vengeance" Chapter 29.


	18. Chapter 18

**ABOMINATION**

**EIGHTTEEN**

Nothing happened.

Ianto was still visible and quite alive; and apparently the Earth continued spinning on its axis, and the universe remained intact.

"Wait, let me try again," Ianto said as he once more activated the phase shifter.

He looked at the people looking at him, "You can still see me, right?"

They all nodded in unison.

"Shit!" he shook the appliance a couple of times and then held it to his ear like a conch shell. "Do you think it's broken?"

"Try knocking it on the pavement a few times. Maybe something's stuck?" Rhys helpfully suggested.

"Rhys!" Gwen reprimanded him. "It's sophisticated alien tech, not an electric drill!"

"Well, it's worth a try ain't it? I mean if that's what broke the thing, maybe giving it a good rap or two will bring it back."

Ianto looked at them again, nodded pensively, gave the device a couple of good taps with his knuckles and once more tried to activate it.

Still nothing happened.

"Oh no!" Wil wailed. "I don't believe this is happening."

"Shush! That's quitter talk!" Rhys scolded her, then he extended an open hand towards Ianto. "Here, give it to me."

Ianto automatically relinquished his formerly precious quantum Casimir multi-dimensional time-space segment modification appliance, now seemingly no more useful than a door stop or a paperweight.

Rhys crouched down and banged it on the concrete several times, then gave it a good shake or two before handing it back to Ianto. "Try it again!" he ordered.

Ianto did. Nothing happened.

"This is not happening, this is not happening," Wil kept moaning while shaking her head in denial.

Rhys leaned over, picked up the small piece that had broken off the device, and handed it to Ianto, "Stick it back on there."

"What?!"

"You heard me, try to put it back together!"

With a grimace Ianto proffered the two pieces in his open hands. "_You_ try it!"

"Okay then, I will!" Rhys grabbed both of the pieces and inspected the device, trying to determine where the smaller piece belonged.

"This is not happening, this is not happening," Wil continued keening.

After a few moments Rhys leaned towards Gwen and whispered, "I don't see where it goes."

"Of course you don't!" She slapped him lightly across the shoulder with the palm of her hand. "It's alien tech, Rhys! Have you ever seen any alien tech before? Have you ever FIXED any alien tech before?"

He shook his head sadly, "No, I'm sorry. I'm usually good at fixing things you know…" His voice trailed off only to be replaced by the sound of Wil's sobbing.

Gwen was running out of ideas and she was starting to feel helpless. No doubt the situation was well and truly fucked and she loathed it – it was giving her a horrible headache. She wanted to scream at Wil and tell her to shut the hell up. She wanted to scream at Jack because he was such an idiot to get trapped inside the Hub. And she _especially_ wanted to scream at Ianto for dropping the damned device in the first place. She glared at him and he seemingly read her mind.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to drop it. The gun scared the crap out of me. I'm really sorry!"

Gwen took a deep breath and softened her eyes, "We know that, Ianto. We know you didn't mean to break it. No one blames you. It was an accident." She thought for a moment. "Jack said you'd taken several items, but he never told me what they were. Is there anything else you have that might be helpful?"

He considered the question for a few seconds and sadly shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I took a sort of replicator device. If you scan something with it, it can replicate it." They all looked him curiously – even Wil had managed to quiet herself, and Ianto's face went pink with embarrassment. "I used it to replicate money and food, but the food doesn't taste as good as the real stuff. It's a useful appliance, but it can't take something that is broken and replicate a fixed version. It's not that intelligent."

"What else?" Gwen asked him kindly. She knew this was hard for him.

"Um, just a little handheld device that contains, you know, books. Uh, libraries, actually. It has all these writings stored in it from all these different planets. All these different civilizations." He smiled thinly. "And it can translate them. So I've been reading a lot of foreign literature, you might call it. But it's got lots of different stuff. Alien encyclopedias and even newspapers of a sort. It's interesting."

"What about technical manuals?" Gwen asked him. "Do you think there might be something in there that could help us fix the phase shift device?"

He shrugged, "God, I don't know. Maybe. I've never seen anything like a manual but I've not really looked for one. I know its holdings are enormous; I've only scratched the surface of what it has to offer. Do you want me to go fetch it?"

Gwen looked at Wil who was wild-eyed and white as a sheet. "Yeah," she said, willing to grasp at any straw, if only to prevent Wil from completely descending into the depths of despair, "I do. I want you to go get it. And take Rhys with you. I'm sorry but I don't trust you and I don't want you running off _again_."

"I know, I understand, I deserve no better," Ianto said sadly.

"And hurry!" Wil managed to whisper. Ianto met her eyes fully for the first time since he'd returned and nodded. He realized he suddenly felt very differently about Wil Beinert. He was afraid to say it, to even think it, but she might be the only thing left of Captain Jack Harkness. He was that worried. That scared.

As the two men turned to leave, the group unexpectedly heard a loud and unusual noise. Three of them, excluding Rhys, had at one time or another heard the sound before, but only one of them recognized it instantly.

"Oh my God," gasped Wil. "It's The Doctor."

_--_

_VWORP VWORP..._


	19. Chapter 19

**ABOMINATION**

**NINETEEN**

The TARDIS door opened and they saw the back of his brown coat. He was leaning over, looking inside his ship and evidently speaking to someone. After a few moments The Doctor took a step backwards, closed and locked the door, turned around and faced them.

"Well!" he said cheerily. "I wasn't expecting a welcoming committee!" He smiled brightly but then noticed they weren't smiling back.

"What's wrong now?" he asked, his face becoming mock serious.

It was Wil who answered. Of the four, she was the most familiar with him. Moreover she was not as intimidated by the Time Lord as Gwen or Ianto. As for Rhys, he had no idea who the tall, thin man with the geeky glasses, ankle-length coat, beat-up Converses and spiky hair was.

"It's Jack, he's trapped inside," Wil answered agitatedly. "The Hub's under lockdown, we don't know why, and Jack's in there alone."

The Doctor, acting as if he hadn't heard her, walked forward and stuck his hand out to Rhys. "I don't think I know you!" he exclaimed curiously and not at all unhappily.

"Oh. Hello. I'm Rhys. Rhys Williams. I'm Gwen's husband." Rhys held out his hand and The Doctor shook it firmly.

"I'm glad to meet you, Rhys Williams! I'm The Doctor. And hello Gwen Cooper and Ianto Jones, no relation to either Mickey or Harriet as I recall, it is nice to see the two of you again!"

Both nodded mutely at the Time Lord in response to his greeting. Only then did he focus his full attention on Wil.

"Now tell me once more, what's happened to Jack?"

"We don't know," Wil was sounding more than a little freaked out and you could tell The Doctor didn't like it very much by the look on his face. "We believe he was inside when the lockdown deployed. We can't get in and he's not answering his phones."

"You think he's inside but you don't know for certain?"

"Excuse me, sir," Ianto stepped forward. "I was able to get inside a while ago and I didn't see Jack, sir, but…" He looked at Gwen for confirmation. She nodded, encouraging him to go on. "I… I didn't see Jack, but I saw something else in there."

"Hmmm?" said the Time Lord, his eyes lighting up noticeably; things were starting to get interesting. "You say you saw something else? What exactly do you mean?"

Ianto inhaled sharply, "I'm not quite sure, the light wasn't very good. I saw something in or near Jack's office, but it wasn't Jack. I don't know what it was. But it wasn't Jack…"

"Come on, Ianto," The Doctor sounded quite exasperated. "Was it animal, vegetable or mineral? Was it alive or dead? Terrestrial or alien? Did it move or was it stationary? What did you _see_?"

Ianto was shaking. "I… I'm not sure, sir."

Gwen had witnessed enough. "Doctor! Can't you tell the boy is frightened? Be civil please."

He spun on her, his face momentarily livid but he instantly managed to calm himself down. She was right. He was being unkind. _Patience is a virtue…_

The Doctor removed his glasses and once again looked at Ianto, but this time his eyes were filled with compassion instead of annoyance, "I'm sorry. I apologize. I know you're trying your best. Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"It… whatever it was looked at me. There was a mind there. But it wasn't Jack. I didn't see Jack."

"Okay, well, good! That helps. How did you manage to get out through the lockdown?"

"He had this, Doctor, sir," Rhys handed him the phase shift device – in two pieces.

The Doctor took it, looked at it briefly and scowled, "It's broken."

"We know that, sir."

"All of you – you can stop with the 'sir' business. I'm The Doctor, just The Doctor, _only_ The Doctor." He handed both pieces of the device back to Rhys. "A phasing cloak… A hunk of Amarantin junk! You know, don't you, if you use it too often your hair will fall out?"

The Doctor humorlessly scrutinized Ianto for a moment, correctly identifying him as an easy target. "And that you may go sterile?" He knew that last bit was slightly over-the-top, but he couldn't resist having a tiny bit of fun.

Especially considering the odds were quite good there'd be damned little additional fun to be had in the foreseeable future.

The Doctor frowned as he again examined Ianto, but now with considerably more sympathy. "It is fortunate that thing broke before you became seriously damaged," he said softly, almost kindly. "Repeatedly warping and twisting spacetime in such close proximity to your body without proper protection is extremely hazardous." Then turning his attention towards his ship, he abruptly changed the subject as well as the tone of his voice.

"And now that we've cleared that up," the Time Lord announced, "I suggest I use the TARDIS to get inside the Hub." He regarded each of the humans standing before him one at a time. "Who wants to come with me?"

All four raised their hands.

He smiled brilliantly. "Now that's what I call team spirit! _Allons-y_ then, shall we?" He quickly spun round towards his ship but paused and called out over his shoulder, "And mind Spike, please. He's an indoor cat!"


	20. Chapter 20

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTY**

Wil was the last of the group to walk through the doors and she closed and locked them behind her. It had been a long time since she'd been inside the TARDIS, but the ship's cozy familiarity provided her no small amount of comfort and she was already feeling a little better, a little more hopeful, now that The Doctor had so conveniently arrived.

It should have come as no surprise – she'd watched it happen over and over again – when either The Doctor or Jack was in need, the other would invariably appear. It was one of those inexplicable constants of the cosmos, and it reassured her.

But she certainly didn't like what Ianto said he'd found inside the Hub. She had totally missed, or hadn't fully comprehended that what he'd seen, which scared him so badly, had been _inside_ Jack's office. She didn't like that at all.

The Doctor gazed down at her from his console and grinned, "Welcome home, Wil Beinert. I think she missed you!" The others looked at Wil curiously, but though she smiled in response she did not bother to elaborate. The Doctor, his TARDIS and Wil had a history. She'd returned – twice! – the precious gift they'd given her. (1)(2) A gift she suspected she could always ask for again, if necessary, but was determined never to do so.

Wil looked into the Time Lord's inscrutable eyes and he winked at her. The gesture was so very reminiscent of Jack – it tugged on her aching heartstrings.

"Head's up," The Doctor announced, setting the coordinates. "Make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their upright and locked position. It's best if you hang on to something as there are no seatbelts!" He punched a button and…

Nothing happened.

"What?" The Doctor yelped. "What's going on?"

He hit the button again.

Still nothing happened.

Wil let out an involuntary moan.

"What's wrong?" asked Gwen.

The Doctor held up an index finger to his lips. "Shush! Let me listen!"

He stood still for a long moment, then reset the coordinates and punched the button one more time.

_Nada._

He looked up and sighed. "She doesn't want to move. At least she doesn't want to go where I am asking her to go. Do any of you know… can you think of any reason why my ship wouldn't want to materialize inside Torchwood?"

"That thing, sir, I mean Doctor, what I saw, it was pretty awful," Ianto suggested.

The Doctor shook his head vehemently. "Nah... Icky spacemonsters and other dreadful wingnuts don't bother the TARDIS. I'm sure she's seen _far_ worse than whatever it was you met up with. It must be something else…"

Rhys spoke up, "What about the red-haired woman?"

"What? What? What red-haired woman?"

Rhys nodded at Ianto, "The red-haired woman he told us about, the one he left inside the Hub before he saw whatever it was and vamoosed."

The Doctor spun on Ianto menacingly. "Tell me about the red-haired woman you left behind."

Ianto unconsciously took a step backward in response to the hostile look on the Time Lord's face. "She… She'd been hanging around outside Torchwood," he replied. "I didn't know who she was. Something strange happened when I spoke with her earlier today. She fainted or passed out or something. I wasn't sure what to do so I carried her to the Hub's medical bay. And that's where I left her." He swallowed hard. "She should be safe there; I secured the clinic to prevent her from leaving." He worried he wasn't making a very good impression on The Doctor.

And he was right. "You mean you left her behind, locked inside?" The Doctor accused him angrily.

Once again it was Gwen who attempted to intercede on Ianto's behalf. "Doctor, I spoke with Martha Jones and from what she said, this woman's description closely matches your companion Donna Noble." Gwen looked at the Time Lord coldly. "Where is Donna Noble by the way? Is she here with you?"

"No, she's not." The Doctor was suddenly on the defensive; it was Gwen's authoritative tone of voice, he realized. She was using her police voice on him. And it was working.

"If this red-haired woman _is_ Donna Noble," The Doctor continued, "and Ianto brought her inside Torchwood, then this is an extremely precarious situation for her. Very dangerous and potentially fatal, that is, if she's not already dead." The Doctor sounded worried indeed. "We need to get her out of there."

"And how do we do that, Doctor, if your ship refuses to take us inside?" asked Gwen.

"Well… we'll just have to convince her, won't we? Wil?"

Lost in her own painful little world of snowballing disappointment, Wil hadn't been listening.

"Wil! Wake up! I need you!" The Doctor barked.

With a start the woman looked at him and walked towards the console. "What do you want me to do?" she asked with trepidation.

"It's okay Wil, nothing will happen to you. I just need you here with me. _Fully_ here with me." He scrutinized her warily. "The TARDIS knows you and trusts you. I believe I now understand why she doesn't want to materialize inside the Hub. I might be wrong, but I think the TARDIS knows who is inside, and that it would be perilous for Donna to encounter me or my ship. And this is true, Wil, it would be exceedingly dangerous for her. We need to make sure the TARDIS knows that we know that _she_ knows about Donna." He giggled charmingly at his own joke. "Oh… I realize that sounds ludicrous, but just go with me on this, okay? And don't worry, I promise you're safe, Wil. Neither the TARDIS nor I would ever allow anything to hurt you.

"Now stand here beside me and turn that lever there." He pointed at a control device on the console. As Wil turned the handle the Time Lord punched the button one more time.

With an almost deafening "VWORP VWORP" the Time Lord's ship dematerialized.

(1) "Evolution" Chapter 22.  
(2) "Revelations" Chapter 27.


	21. Chapter 21

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTYONE**

"Well," The Doctor said, lifting an eyebrow, "that was surprisingly easy."

Wil immediately strode toward the doors.

"Wait!" he shouted at her and she stopped in mid-step. "Come back up here, Wil. We need a plan before any of us leaves. Gwen, how do you deactivate the lockdown?"

"Two current staff members have to disable it. It's done on a computer." There was a beat as she glanced around. "Those two staff members would be Wil and me."

"What about Ianto?" the Time Lord asked, looking at him. Ianto felt as if he was being measured, and the experience induced a distinct feeling of inadequacy.

"Erm, he's on unpaid leave right now. Long story. We'll explain it later," responded Gwen.

"Hmm…" The Doctor considered briefly and then continued. "Okay, so, Wil and Gwen, your first order of business is to disable the lockdown. Ianto, I want you and Rhys to go straight to Donna, or whoever the mysterious red-haired woman is, and make sure she's all right. If she's revived, tell her _nothing_. Then, Gwen, I want you to join them after you've taken care of the alarm and help get the woman out of the building and as far away from here as feasible. This must be done as quickly as possible. She must not under any circumstance see me or the TARDIS. That is imperative. Do you understand?"

"And what will you be doing?" asked Gwen, inspecting the Time Lord levelly.

She threw him off his game with her questions. No wonder why Jack liked her. He shook off the uneasiness.

"Right… well, along with Wil, after the two of you have finished your first task, I'm going to find Jack, and take a good look at this business that's got Ianto so frightened. How does that sound?"

Gwen nodded, "Sounds like a plan."

"Good, I'm glad we're in agreement," his deadpan look didn't betray whether he was being sarcastic or not.

His features abruptly transforming into a brilliant smile, The Doctor looked at their faces. "Off we go then!" he announced with a wobble of his head as he turned and walked down the ramp. The group followed and halted a few steps behind him. They watched silently as he unlocked the door, opened it a crack and peered through it for a few seconds.

At that precise moment the lights in the TARDIS flickered once and then went out. Suddenly the room was absolutely quiet. Even the air stopped moving.

"Whoops," The Doctor squeaked before slamming the door shut, turning around, pulling out his sonic and shining its blue glow dimly on the four people standing in front of him.

"I think we might need a different plan…"

"What did you see?" Rhys asked as he pulled out a small penlight from his pocket, diffused it and shined it on the face of the Time Lord. The Doctor blinked a couple of times as his eyes adjusted to the beam of light.

"Uh, well, it would seem I was, um, wrong about what the TARDIS was objecting to here. I no longer believe the difficulty is the woman who might or might not be Donna Noble." He shook his head and paused, as if considering what to say next. And indeed, that was exactly what he was doing. He realized too much information could sometimes be a bad thing. But then, all of them deserved to know what sort of danger they were in…

"We've materialized inside another TARDIS…"

"Inside another TARDIS?!" repeated a very surprised Wil Beinert.

He ignored her. Well, not really _ignored_ her. He was off in his own world, speaking only to himself. It occurred all the time. They just happened to be there.

"It would seem I was wrong about my TARDIS being the only TARDIS left… the last TARDIS… There would now appear to be another. I should've felt it, but I didn't. I don't know why…

"And we've materialized inside it, this other TARDIS. That isn't impossible in itself. It is improbable but not impossible. It's happened before, there is precedence. But it is _extremely_ perilous. My TARDIS is using all her power to prevent the two ships from occupying the exact same space. If they did, if they occupied the exact same space, they'd annihilate each other in a Time Ram, and more than likely this planet if not the entire solar system would be obliterated along with them…

"In a quantum universe you'd think it extremely rare that two TARDISes could occupy the exact same location in spacetime, but unfortunately TARDISes don't exist solely in our quantum universe. It's complicated, so never mind, but the tendency is… Well… the inclination is not benign… They are territorial old things, TARDISes. And when one intrudes on another's space the outcome is _almost always_ _bad._"

Once again becoming aware of his surroundings he looked sorrowfully in the soft blue light of his sonic at each member of his audience, ultimately settling his gaze on Wil.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I have to go out there alone; and Wil, I may have to break my promise to you… If something happens to me while I'm out there, or if while I am gone my TARDIS can no longer maintain her current defensive status, it will be up to you, Wil, to get everyone to safety."

"Doctor, no," Wil suddenly understood with terrible clarity what he was implying.

The Time Lord heard the fear in her voice. "It's okay Wil. It's not a given, it's a last resort, it's a failsafe and even if it happens it doesn't have to be permanent. It'll be your call to decide whether you want to keep the TARDIS or let her go to sleep, allow her to fade away and disappear, along with her – with _our_ – final gift to you. Please," he pleaded, "do this, for me. And if I can, I promise I will find Jack and bring him home."

In the dim light Wil nodded at The Doctor and he nodded back; she'd almost too easily resigned herself to the unavoidable reality of the situation. But she'd seen his face, seen the look in his eyes. He needed her and that's all there was to it. He had that effect.

"Excuse me," it was Gwen. "I don't understand a thing you two are talking about, but I fail to see the reason why you should go out there alone, Doctor."

"Because, that is our only choice, Gwen. Out there is something that shouldn't exist. It is as likely to kill you as not. I'm a Time Lord, and hypothetically it should at least accept me if not defer to me. But in this context 'accept' can have several different meanings. It might leave me as I am, or it might imprint on me or even, for lack of a better term, absorb me…

"It's not safe out there for any of us, but I guarantee it is far more dangerous for all of you than it is for me. There are no other options, no further negotiations and no more discussions. _Capice?_"

In response was only silence.

That's all the Time Lord said to them about it, and when he thought about what might happen he envied them their ignorance.

"Wil, come here," he looked at her keenly, his eyes shining brilliantly in the glow of Rhys' penlight.

She walked unhurriedly down to The Doctor, who after pocketing his sonic gently took her head in his hands, placed his fingertips on her temples, and pressed his forehead against hers for a long, hushed moment.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he whispered as he leaned away and gently stroked one of her unruly locks.

She shook her head and smiled at him.

"Good," he said. "Now go back up to your friends." As she turned away she heard the door quietly close behind him.


	22. Chapter 22

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTYTWO**

"Damn, I should've brought a torch," The Doctor muttered to himself as he shined the pale blue light of his sonic around the room.

That is, if you could call it a room.

It felt like something haunted or possessed.

The look of it would've been fantastically curious if he hadn't been frightened half out of his wits.

Ianto had been right to be scared. He shouldn't have been so tough on the poor kid.

The Doctor had never seen anything like it. And he'd seen _a lot_ in over nine hundred years…

Weird, unsettling growths clotted the walls: here a leprous froth, there a brachial mass horribly suggestive of petrified lung tissue. Unguents dripped constantly from ceiling to floor. His shoes squelched in the putrid slime.

If the room – the ship, he corrected himself – had only ever been a mechanical thing he could've taken it. But there was no escaping the fact that much of what he saw stemmed in some arcane sense from the memory of a human's biological body.

And suddenly he realized whose body it was.

He shivered, more in apprehension than cold, and continued slowly moving forward, being careful not to slip on the unforgiving substances covering the floor.

It was a matter of semantics as to whether he walked through a ship, a nascent TARDIS that had taken on certain biological attributes or a body that had swollen to the size and form of a ship.

He knew that TARDISes were grown, not made. Without the Eye of Harmony, which was destroyed along with Gallifrey itself in the Time War, this ship was by definition imperfect and incomplete. And lacking the imprint of a Time Lord, it was nonfunctional. But in its birthing pains it had tried to rectify both those deficiencies. _Oh Jack…_

Power hadn't been a problem because it had been born atop the spacetime rift that ran under Torchwood. In fact, The Doctor ascertained, this TARDIS had way, way too much power at its disposal.

But the lack of an Imprimatur… that had been a terrible obstacle. And so the infant TARDIS reached out graspingly for the closest thing to a Time Lord it could find. It reached out and it found Captain Jack Harkness.

_Oh God, Jack…_

And it had swallowed the Captain whole, assimilating him. But because within his biological makeup Jack did not have a Rassilon Imprimatur, he could not provide what the defective TARDIS required, nor was he strong enough to withstand its needful embrace.

What Jack _could_ do was survive – persist – longer than any human in existence, longer than any life form anywhere, while the abomination sucked him dry, repeatedly.

With a start The Doctor understood he was in far greater peril than he had anticipated. He steadied his mind and reinforced its barriers in preparation for the psychological assault that was sure to come. And still he kept moving. Something told him it would not do to stand still; not do at all.

The character of the cloying breeze, which had met him as he'd left his ship suddenly changed. It was warmer now, more damp, with an irregularity about it that made him think of ragged breathing.

Despite his growing nausea and against his better judgment, he couldn't help but continue to examine his bizarre surroundings. Unsettling sculptural formations lined the walls: there was an archway that appeared to be made from spinal vertebrae, and elsewhere a sickening mass of curled and knotted intestinal tubes. His light's crawling shadows made the tubes writhe and contort like copulating snakes.

_I'm so sorry, Jack._

There was nothing he could do for his friend. His best friend. What had happened was unnatural and impossible, but undeniable. It was unfathomably corrupt and it was dangerous beyond belief. The flawed TARDIS had taken Jack, dismembered and analyzed him, and patterned itself after what it found.

The walls seemed to undulate. He wasn't sure if his hearing was playing tricks on him, but he thought he heard, or if not imagined the air around him moan. He surely didn't have much time, and he remembered that there was still someone else nearby who perhaps needed to be saved.

The Doctor knew, rationally, that the logical thing would be to go back to his TARDIS and leave. To base his decision on how to proceed upon the strict application of tactics, on military sense. But, in examining the minutiae of his life, and all those critical points contained therein, he recognized that time and time again over the years – over the centuries – he would disregard the acknowledged rules of engagement entirely and react in a way that made no sense except on a humane level. _Why change now?_

Maybe all was not a total loss, although the loss of Captain Jack Harkness was devastating. The implication hit him like a fist in the gut and literally took his breath away. He became nearly overcome with sorrow. Jack's loss simply changed everything. It changed everything completely and absolutely and forever. And it changed it for the worse.

The Doctor knew it was much, much more than a mere personal loss, but the personal loss was all he could feel. And it felt like death.

"Just give me a few minutes," he said out loud as he looked up at the churning walls. "That's all I ask and then you can have me. Please just let me do this one last thing and then I'm yours."


	23. Chapter 23

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTYTHREE**

As The Doctor made his way towards the medical bay, the building's walls and ceiling roiled in sullen gray shapes. In all directions the surfaces were being constantly interrupted by slick, moving phantasms of a dull, oily turquoise-green color. The Time Lord no longer needed the light of his sonic to see, but he knew that would not be the case for long. What had taken over Jack's office and its surroundings was on the move; it was spreading. Once again the realization hit him that he didn't have much time at all, nor did those who remained in his ship.

Up ahead a distinct and threatening smudge of wet ink clung to the ceiling, like a black eye. It seemed to move against the churning surface above his head, as well as contrary to the intermittent breeze he continued to feel blowing against the skin of his face. Did he imagine it? It seemed the dark stain was shifting as if looking for something below.

And there was something in the air – a taste? A smell? He wasn't sure what stung his eyes and made them water incessantly. He pulled out a handkerchief and suddenly thought of Spike. He'd forgotten to tell her, to tell Wil about Spike. To make sure that the cat would be cared for properly after he was gone. Damn it, what was wrong with him? Sometimes he just didn't _think_…

He wiped the tears from his eyes, but that only made matters worse. The air was clotted with something and all he'd done was force the irritation deeper into himself.

The organic shapes congealed around him in a constant procession of disturbing effigies. When he looked at them directly the forms had no meaning, but from the corner of his eye he saw hints of anatomy: a menagerie of strangely joined limbs, sinews, and ligaments.

Something made him stop. "I'm sorry," he spoke softly, almost in a half-whisper.

"I'm afraid I let you down, but I promise I won't let her down, let _them_ down. When we were apart, and I had to do something or another, I always thought about how you would have done it. Not that we're the same. Oh not in the least! But I know in some respects I could never be your equal. I mean most of the time I have trouble planning beyond the end of my nose. I'm a hands-on type. But you, _you_ Jack Harkness, you always seemed to have everything mapped out. You always had a perfect idea where you were and where you were heading." He paused thoughtfully, "Which was always and inexorably forward, wasn't it?"

"And even when you were forced to punt," he conceded, "you always looked magnificent." The Doctor's voice caught in his throat.

His eyes prickled. He thought about what he had just said and the bitter irony of it. 'What am I going to do,' he wondered, 'if the woman in the medical bay _is_ Donna Noble?' The slightest of smiles graced his lips, 'Well… I saved her once and I suppose I can do it again.'

"Like I said," he smiled again, but darkly, before completing the sentence, before resuming his way forward, "I'm a hands-on kind of guy."


	24. Chapter 24

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTYFOUR**

Inside The Doctor's darkened TARDIS an argument was taking place.

Unsurprisingly it was between Gwen and Wil. There'd always been a sort of grudging coexistence between the two women, but now that fragile peace had given way to something else entirely.

Rhys and Ianto stood back as if watching a slow-motion auto accident in progress, their initial morbid fascination transforming into a growing sense of alarm.

"I feel the presence of evil," Gwen was saying. "We can't leave him out there on his own, it's just not right."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," the other woman mocked her. "_Evil?_ You sense no such thing. You simply can't stand the thought of someone else taking command away from you."

Gwen's eyes flashed. "Right, just like you couldn't swallow my being Jack's number two. What was it? Did you think sharing his bed would allow you to share his authority as well?"

"I don't believe you said that!"

"Said it?! We've all been thinking it for months! You could hardly wait for your chance to shove me aside. You're a control freak, Wil. Admit it. And it galls you to have someone else – particularly another woman – order you about."

Wil gasped, speechless.

"You're an arrogant, self-righteous bitch," Gwen hissed.

"And you're a paranoid psychotic!"

"Slut!"

Rhys, who had focused his little penlight on the two women, their faces only inches apart, watched in horror as Wil flexed her hands and formed them into fists. This couldn't be allowed to escalate into a physical confrontation. He blew a very loud and very shrill whistle through his teeth.

"Gwen! Wil! What the hell is going on here?" he bellowed. "This isn't the time or place for an office argument. It certainly isn't helping the situation or The Doctor."

Wil relaxed her hands. She knew he was right. Gwen had started the exchange by merely expressing a sincere wish to help The Doctor. There'd been nothing wrong with that, it was a totally reasonable desire Wil felt as well. She took a deep breath and looked without rancor at the other woman.

"I'm sorry, Gwen. Rhys is right. I know we have issues but I'm willing to set them aside for the good of The Doctor, if not Jack and the unfortunate innocent woman who's trapped along with him inside the Hub."

The look on Gwen's face remained livid, her eyes shining ferociously in the dim illumination. "Gwen, honey," Rhys pleaded. "Please, bygones?"

Gwen looked into her husband's eyes, in the scant light sensing if not actually seeing the love and concern there. She nodded at him, still unable to look at Wil directly, "Bygones."

There was an immediate if not quite absolute relaxation of tensions.

But they were still standing in the dark, and the smell of fear was palpable.

"Wil," it was Rhys speaking in a soft, considerate voice. "Is there anything we can do to help The Doctor? Is there anything we can do in here to get a better idea about what is going on out there?"

Although her face was obscured in deep shadow, the sound of her voice was indicative of a profound reluctance to answer the question. "Um… No, not really… Well, actually, yes there is… But Rhys, Gwen, Ianto, it's not necessarily a good thing. Not a good thing at all. And it makes me so very afraid."

That was more than enough for Rhys. "Okay then, that's a non-starter," he said, "but there's _got_ to be something else…"


	25. Chapter 25

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTYFIVE**

They were rummaging through the storage areas beneath the control room's decking.

Gwen had found a hoard of tactical-style military flashlights stashed under the floor. The torches' bright beams assisted the group's further search efforts, plus the discovery bolstered their fragile sense of optimism. A little light was a very welcome thing.

Soon after, Ianto located several bins filled with dirty dishes. "Yuck!" he exclaimed, noisily dropping one of them back down to where it belonged. "The man apparently doesn't do well living alone." They all chuckled at his joke.

To her great surprise Wil then discovered a cache of large guns. As she lifted the rifles up one at a time from below the floor she recognized them: they were from a previous mission she'd carried out with Rose and Jack to rescue The Doctor from his abductors on the Shrake homeworld. (1)

With a start Wil realized Jack had probably once touched the guns… that, in fact, they more than likely belonged to him and he'd left them on the TARDIS, maybe even hidden them there purposefully. Her eyes filled with angry tears. It just wasn't fair. Nothing was fair…

She was afraid she already knew what was going to happen. It was going to be either Jack or she who'd survive. Not both, never both. Somehow she always suspected she'd be compelled – she was doomed – to make that ghastly choice. She believed the fates or the gods or whatever it was who ran the universe wouldn't permit her to hang on to such an extraordinary man – would never allow her to be happy with him for very long. And that those uncompromising fates would force her to choose between his life and her own.

Rhys was watching Wil, watching her face as she clearly struggled with her ferocious internal demons. But he was also looking closely at the weapons cache she'd found. It gave him an idea, but he knew selling it was not going to be easy.

For a long moment he contemplated just going ahead and doing it. _Discussion be damned._ But then he considered the fragile and on-edge Gwen standing a few feet away from him, as well as Wil, who was certainly an unknown variable, but who could probably beat the living crap out of him.

And then there was Ianto. Rhys looked sidelong at the boy and noticed he, too, was surreptitiously eyeing the guns. There was no doubt the kid had _cojones_; Ianto wouldn't have been working for Jack if he didn't. But Rhys knew that _he_ was the rational, logical and obvious choice, not Ianto, and not either of the two women. He knew it just like he knew two plus two equaled four.

Now if he could just convince the rest of them of that…

He walked over to Wil and crouched down next to her. "Hand me one of those, would you love?" he said softly.

Without thinking she did.

As he stood the gun activated with a low purr. He looked at Wil with raised eyebrows, "I didn't do that!"

She shrugged back, the barest of smiles on her face, "I think it likes you."

But Gwen was having none of it as she strode over to the husband she knew so very, _very_ well. "No Rhys. No way," she growled.

He looked at her lovingly, "Come on, honey, you know what needs to happen, what's going to happen. It has to be me."

Ianto stepped forward, the boy suddenly a man, "That's not necessarily true, Rhys."

Wil rose from the floor, "He's right, Ianto. You know it, I know it. We all know it."

Gwen had to bite her tongue. It was her husband, after all, offering to put his life on the line. God knows what had happened to Wil's man, and now there she was encouraging another woman's husband to venture into unknowable, possibly lethal, danger. But something told Gwen that it was indeed exactly what had to happen. "They're right," she said to Ianto, the resolute sound of her voice surprising her.

(1) "Revelations" Chapter 21.


	26. Chapter 26

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTYSIX**

"Hello, Starman," the woman standing just inside the room said to him after he unlocked and opened the door.

She was recognizable to him, and yet it was clear that he did not know her.

As The Doctor approached the medical bay the strangeness of his surroundings had decreased dramatically. The light fixtures were working; the walls and ceiling appeared basically normal. It had briefly crossed his mind that perhaps it was him, that he had been partially assimilated and corrupted, and thus he was no longer able or willing to perceive reality properly. That he simply couldn't see the distortions. But he doubted such reasoning; his mental barriers felt as solid as ever. He felt like himself and not usurped.

But now he realized he indeed had been deceived. The perversion was bad here, perhaps worse, because it had taken _her_.

Perhaps it was time for him to indulge in a little bit of deception of his own.

"Donna! What? How?" he gave her his best flummoxed Time Lord act.

"Oh, cut the crap, Doctor. You know exactly what and precisely how."

He blinked at her before changing tactics. "Well… actually, I don't. I mean, I have an idea, maybe a good idea, but it's just a theory mind you. This is all pretty new to me, being that I'm only 900 years old, just a boy, really. And an isolated boy at that. I've not had much chance to hobnob with my Gallifreyan brethren lately seeing as they're all _dead_."

Donna Noble rolled her eyes and smiled, there was something sinister about the smile, "Poor, lonely Time Lord! Okay, okay, I'll bite. But mind you, I don't know everything either, nor really does she – you call ships 'she', right? She'd been sitting around here for a long time, minding her own business when something happened, something set her off, forced her into some sort of emergency development mode."

"The Time War?" The Doctor half-whispered.

"Oh, that wasn't it. It was more recent. Don't be so self-centered Boy Wonder, not everything in the universe revolves around you."

"I don't think that it does."

"Oh no? Then why are you here?" she looked at him levelly, almost cruelly.

He paused a beat. "To see Jack."

"And why do you want to see Jack?" There was that smile again. That wicked smile…

He blinked at her in response.

"Don't worry, she doesn't agree or disagree with your idea," Donna smirked. "She's neutral. But the point is, she _knows_."

"Donna," he tried not to show it but his hearts were breaking. "What happened to you?"

"I don't know; _she_ doesn't know… she was trawling for something and I heard her. And then I saw… I saw, well, never mind. Let's just say she found me." For a moment there was a look in her eyes – a look he _did_ recognize – a look of compassion.

"You saw Jack?" he asked without knowing, and yet he knew.

She nodded once, twice.

"What's happened to him, Donna? What's happened to Jack?"

"I'm sorry," was all she said, and then the look was gone.


	27. Chapter 27

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTYSEVEN**

"Come here," she commanded, holding out her hand to him, and for an improbable, confused moment The Doctor thought she was going to hug him. He almost smiled…

But instead she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, with a startling amount of speed and force. It took him by surprise – that is an understatement – it was like a kick in the head psychologically. It stunned him.

"She wants to see us. She wants to see you."

Outside the med bay the bioalterations were now at full-bore. Yes, he knew that the universe didn't revolve around him, and yet it sure felt like he'd been purposefully tricked – lulled to Donna's location.

The two moved in near darkness, navigating from one erratic light source to the next as they made their way towards Jack's office, deep in the cloisters of the modifications. Donna's hand remained firmly attached to the back of his collar as they finally halted at what seemed to be an unspecific point. When the wall moved, pushing itself into the bas-relief image of a human figure, The Doctor barely controlled his natural instinct to flinch.

The figure was a suggestion rather than an accurate representation. The image shimmered, the wall's deformations undergoing constant and rapid change.

"And what desktop theme is this?" the Time Lord snarled sarcastically under his breath. But the creature that had once been Donna Noble heard him and her fingers tightened cruelly around his neck and gave it a little shake – almost affectionate – but oh so most definitely not.

"As if you need to ask, it's a new variation of coral, of course. Don't you know? That's what she was, or at least that's what Jack thought she was, for all those years. All those decades. A harmless piece of coral…"

Donna suddenly went silent and he turned to look back at her. To his surprise she had a pained, rather confused look on her face and she blinked hard and shook her head as if trying to clear cobwebs from her mind. She did not cry out, or even react at all, when The Doctor felt a lurch as if the room shifted. He felt another series of jolts and involuntarily shut his eyes.

When he opened them again he had to suppress a spontaneous gasp of surprise. For all that he knew every moment was precious, it was impossible to not be moved by the view he was seeing.

They now seemed to be in a huge chamber, a place that at first appeared not to have any limits at all. There was endless sky above him, shaded in a rich, heraldic blue. In all directions he saw only stepped tiers of trees reaching away into blue-green infinity. There was a lovely fragrant breeze and a pool off to one side being fed by a waterfall. The water in the pool was the unmistakable and exquisite black of space. A little way from the water's edge was a small wooden table with two rough-hewn chairs.

He had no idea if what he was seeing was real, or a variation of the wall distortions he'd witnessed earlier, or if it was something that for his benefit alone had been entirely and insidiously inserted into his mind. It _seemed_ no less real than the hand of Donna, which was still firmly affixed around his neck. But at this juncture, real or not, The Doctor was fairly sure that it didn't matter. His goal still felt within reach; he wanted Donna released. It seemed a fair trade: give up Donna Noble, gain a Time Lord.

"So what's this theme called?" He spoke facetiously to no one in particular, "Glade?" If he was going down, he'd go down laughing…

A flock of birds flew overhead, red and yellow daubs against the intense blue backdrop of the sky. He tracked them with his eyes as they disappeared into the distance. When he looked back at the pool, someone was sitting at the table, which now seemed closer than it had been. That someone stood, waved, and walked towards him.

It was Jack Harkness.


	28. Chapter 28

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTYEIGHT**

Jack looked a little thinner than The Doctor remembered, but still fundamentally the same. He was dressed entirely in tight black clothes that served only to emphasize his well-tuned muscles. In fact, no doubt about it, The Doctor had to admit Jack looked… well, _hot_.

For a moment the Time Lord was somewhere else, wandering through a landscape of mental reflection. He closed his eyes, remained that way for a few seconds and then opened them again. They were now gleaming with bright alertness, no trace of fear or even concern visible.

The Doctor waved back and beamed his most charming smile, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Hello!" he chimed. "Are you the person with whom I'm speaking?"

Jack laughed at the joke, as he should have. But it was most certainly not his voice. It was more of a hiss, a modulation of the waterfall's sibilance. That was the first clue that something wasn't quite right.

The second was the color of Jack's eyes. The Doctor had been blessed with a visual variation of perfect pitch – which he also possessed – when he looked at something he often simply knew without thinking if it was correct. Jack did have beautiful blue eyes, as did the being standing before him, but its eyes matched perfectly the deep, rich color of the sky above. And the Time Lord knew instinctively _that_ color was not the same color as the Captain's eyes.

The Doctor moved a few steps forward, the seemingly catatonic Donna still glommed onto his back like a tumor. No sense in beating around the bush, he thought. Might as well get straight to it.

"Jack?" he asked.

The being looked down with keen interest at its own body and after a few moments looked back up and smiled. "Kind of," it said.

The Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, "Where's Jack?" he asked, his voice sounding almost cheerful.

"I took him."

"Why?"

"I needed him."

"Why?"

The being looked at him coolly for several seconds apparently considering its next statement carefully; it was a look The Doctor had seen on Jack's face many times.

"To build myself."

"Ah! And what about the one behind me?"

"I took her as well, but she wasn't as useful as I'd hoped."

"Sorry about that." The quality of The Doctor's voice suddenly shifted to a more ominous part of the tonal spectrum as his eyes narrowed. "Let her go."

"No, not until I have you. Even then, she may still be helpful." Again the being smiled, it was Jack's smile.

"Then we are stalemated."

"I think not. I can wait forever, can you?"

The Doctor noticed the breeze had picked up. Actually it was more of a sustained wind now than the previous gentle wafting.

"Release her and I am yours."

"My answer will not change. No…"

A different approach was perhaps warranted. "But… but… this makes no sense," The Doctor grimaced exaggeratedly. "Without the Eye of Harmony you can never hope to be complete. Even if you take me, absorb me, consume me, or whatever it is you plan to do, in the end without the Eye of Harmony…"

"I will take your ship as well."

"Ah," The Doctor said, trying to hide his dismay. Now _that_ was something he hadn't anticipated.

"Well…" he drew out the word, buying time, creating a distraction, whatever. "That won't work either. Like I said, this makes no sense!"

"Why do you think that sense and nonsense are such static and rigid concepts?"

The Doctor had no immediate response to that. He had run out of clever repartees and, finally, he feared, time.


	29. Chapter 29

**ABOMINATION**

**TWENTYNINE**

As Rhys emerged from the TARDIS he was enveloped by a sense of malice. He paused and heard The Doctor's voice in the distance. It sounded angry.

He walked towards it and as he did the impression of evil became perceptibly stronger, almost as if invisible rays of malevolence were boring into his head, fingering their way into the private cavities of his mind.

Maybe Gwen had been right after all… No surprise there.

It was not like him to respond so viscerally and irrationally to a feeling, a sense, but the evil had a quality of undeniable power. Rhys could feel himself starting to freak out – his respiration increased; there was a tightening in his chest and in his groin, and a prickling under his arms. Of their own volition his hands rhythmically squeezed and released the gun he was holding.

It occurred to him that maybe it was a setup. Somewhere in this bizarre place – it looked bizarre, smelled bizarre, felt bizarre – was a mechanism for inducing disquiet. It tickled the parts of his brain responsible for stimulating dread and the registering of hidden presences.

The idea left him less disturbed.

He moved on, ignoring his surroundings and following the sound of The Doctor's voice.

As he neared his destination he slowed then stopped. It sounded like the Time Lord was speaking to someone, but it was a strange kind of conversation: he could only hear the one voice. Rhys calmed his breathing and tried to make out the discourse's meaning but couldn't. Something else was bizarre – he could hear the word-like sounds but couldn't parse the language; couldn't make sense of it.

His anxiety was rekindling despite his best intentions. He proceeded forward cautiously, as quietly as possible, aiming his gun forward, its muzzle pointed down toward the floor, his index finger wrapped around the trigger.

And then Rhys saw him – The Doctor – standing with who could only be the red-haired woman behind him, her fingers clearly wrapped around his neck, fingertips digging into his cartoid arteries with what obviously was vicious intent. There was something about the Time Lord's posture that seemed unnatural to Rhys. It was not right. It was wrong. It was bad. It was terrible. He had to do something. Do something fast.

Rhys snapped.

"You!" he yelled. "Move away from The Doctor NOW!" He pointed his gun at her.

The Doctor tried to turn his head and look at whoever was screaming behind them. But he could not budge from the painful and now choking grasp that firmly held him. "Who's there?" he managed to say weakly, his voice suddenly a hoarse whisper.

"Get away from The Doctor!" was Rhys' only response. "I'm warning you!"

"Don't do anything!" the Time Lord croaked, but he did not sound convincing, he did not sound strong, he did not sound like himself.

"Time's up!" screamed Rhys as he pointed his gun slightly away from the woman's feet and began firing. The sound was incredibly loud, reverberating on itself, and the recoil shook his entire body. He bellowed as he sprayed the area with rounds, their impact fountaining the putrid goo covering the floor high into the air.

Coolly, and without releasing The Doctor, the woman turned her face towards her assailant and raised her free hand, palm outward, almost as if in surrender.

Almost.

The energy blast emanating from her upraised hand hit Rhys full-force, propelling his body with a loud crash into the wall behind him. With a second resonant thud Rhys dropped like a rag doll to the floor. His gun went skidding through the thick muck and disappeared beneath it.


	30. Chapter 30

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTY**

The rapid bursts of gunfire followed by two loud crashes then abject and ominous silence was clearly perceptible inside The Doctor's TARDIS.

It momentarily occurred to Wil to wonder how it was she'd been able to hear those sounds. Normally the TARDIS would filter out such external noise for the benefit of her passengers. Perhaps in this case the ship had intended something quite different.

They all heard the racket and they all stood blinking at each in horror, wondering what might've just happened.

The pressure to do something grew inside Wil like a nagging pain, and it could not be ignored.

"Oh my God," gasped Gwen, her eyes looking wildly from Wil to Ianto to the doors and then back again to Wil. "Rhys!"

Wil thought the woman was going to bolt uncontrollably toward the entrance right then and there. She stepped in front of Gwen and raised an open hand. "Wait! Please! Give me a moment." There was no time to think, so she didn't.

Wil Beinert took a deep breath, closed her eyes and opened her mind. She was on the edge of spacetime, looking beyond. She stood on the threshold of something alien, but in place of anxiety what she felt was only an imminent sense of homecoming. She felt The Doctor's TARDIS, and through his ship she felt the Time Lord himself. It was like taking a step – not a step off a cliff or a step into a dark alley – but a simple, almost serene step into a comfortable place she'd been before: familiar and secure.

"Hello old friend," she said to herself, but not just to herself. "I guess I'm back."

And then she opened her eyes and the cosmos changed.

Unfortunately she had no time to marvel. She saw Gwen and Ianto looking at her and knew instantly what they were thinking, what they were feeling. She saw the myriad paths extending into infinity that lay before them: before each of them separately and before the two of them together. And she saw the innumerable paths that lay before her own self. The universe was full of options, choices, decisions, routes traveled, and roads not taken, and she saw them all.

"Ianto, Gwen, please stay here. I know you don't want to but I need you to, _we_ need you to stay put. Please believe me and trust me."

Her eyes shined with an unearthly gold light, flecked with glints of gold and green and some color closer to electric blue. Focused and bright, they didn't simply look around. They probed and extracted. They _surveilled_. But she smiled sweetly at her colleagues, just as Wil had always smiled, and she nodded her head at them encouragingly. Gwen and Ianto nodded back like acquiescent school children asked if they understood their homework assignment.

Wil looked down at the modest cache of weapons that had been recovered from below the decking, judged them unnecessary, and walked out the open entrance of the TARDIS. The door closed soundlessly behind her.

She was met with a crawling population of sculptural forms on the walls before her: gargoyles and gryphons, dragons and demons; some of them were animated, jaws gaping wide and snapping shut.

They amused her. They bored her.

She waved her hand, dismissing them, and as expected, they disappeared.

Wil walked determinedly to where The Doctor stood, mute, motionless and seemingly catatonic; he was staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. The woman Wil now recognized as Donna Noble lay dead still on the ground behind him, her eyes open but unseeing. Rhys Williams was crumpled on the floor as well, about twenty feet away. He was conscious, moving and evidently unhurt. Wil went to him.

"Rhys, are you alright?"

"Wil! Where did you come from?" He shook his head, half-dazed, "Be careful! It's not safe here!"

"I'm safe enough. Can you stand?"

"Huh?"

"Can you stand up, Rhys?"

"Yeah, sure I can," the man rose stiffly up off the floor.

"I need you to carry Donna back to The Doctor's TARDIS, right away."

Rhys looked at the prostrate woman with frightened eyes. "Not her! She nearly killed me! She was trying to kill The Doctor!"

"Don't worry, she's totally harmless now. But she may be injured, perhaps badly. I need you to take her back to the TARDIS. The ship will know what to do with her once she's safely inside. Do you understand?" She peered at him, looking deeply into his eyes.

He was shaking his head but then all of a sudden he was nodding it. "I understand," he replied to her.

"Good," she said. "You're very brave, you know that? You were very brave to come out here by yourself like you did, and you were very brave to try to help The Doctor. And now we need you to be very brave again. And quickly. Take Donna back to the ship and wait there, along with Ianto and Gwen. Please stay with them. Do not leave the TARDIS again. None of you must leave the ship."

"Right!" he said as he walked over to Donna and after a quick, worried glance at The Doctor picked her up like she was a small child.

"And you're very strong, too," Wil remarked with a raised eyebrow.

Rhys winked at her and smiled.

As he walked away she turned her back to him, faltered a bit, and grimaced. Her mind was being pummeled by something profoundly powerful.

She looked at The Doctor again. Standing there, unmoving, he was like a picture of an impossible solid, one of those warped triangles or ever-rising staircases; a thing that looked plausible enough at first glance but which on closer inspection produced the effect of a knife twisting in a particular part of the brain – the area responsible for handling representations of the external universe, the area that handled the mechanics of what was and wasn't _right_...

The Doctor did not look proper or correct. Something sordid was happening to reality. It was being abused and Wil didn't like it at all.


	31. Chapter 31

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTYONE**

"What just happened?" Gwen asked Ianto, her voice quivering.

"Um, well, I guess Wil left?" he answered.

"No, I mean WHAT JUST HAPPENED?" Gwen was clearly getting upset. In Ianto's mind, that was never a good thing.

He shook his head and spoke softly, calmly, trying to prevent the looming hysteria. "I'm not sure, but if I'm correct about what you're asking me, I think Wil has somehow, well, _changed_. Remember what The Doctor did immediately before he left? When the two of them were standing by the door? I think he might've done something to her when they were together down there. Gwen…"

"Did you see the color of her eyes?" the woman interrupted him agitatedly.

"Yes, yes I did, Gwen. Listen. What I am trying to say is that I don't think she's _just_ Wil Beinert anymore. You've read the mission reports; she's been altered in the past. It was never clear from the reports that she couldn't reclaim those modifications, if she wished.

"Jack told me, once…" His voice quieted to a near-whisper, "He confided in me before, you know, the two of them… He told me he wasn't certain that there still weren't bits of Terraformer inside her, and/or bits of Time Lord, or even TARDIS. I know… back then, I know that he, he was a little intimidated by her. Frightened of her latent capabilities."

"Her eyes," Gwen murmured, "her eyes were gold. They were green and turquoise, too. But… but they were also the color of the outside of The Doctor's police box, I swear, it was the exact same shade of blue. I couldn't stop looking at them."

A sound of awe crept into Ianto's voice. "It wasn't just what her eyes looked like, it was what they _did_. I felt like she was gazing straight into my soul, and that she was communicating with me somehow through her eyes. I mean, I heard her words, but the really important stuff she was telling me came through her eyes." He shivered involuntarily, but then went on.

"Jack keeps personal logs, stuff he leaves out of the formal mission reports." Gwen flashed him a look of surprise and he swallowed hard. "He shared them with me, Gwen, back when we, you know, he and I, were together. There was no doubt, Wil was phenomenally, fantastically powerful; Jack wasn't sure she could be trusted. He had worries The Doctor had been less than honest with him about the extent of the transformations that had taken place in her. But Jack was torn, ambivalent, because he also felt responsible for Wil. I guess he felt guilty because he recruited her in the first place, and then she ended up being lost, left for dead… He believed they abandoned her just like he'd once been abandoned himself."

"And yet he fell in love with her. I saw nothing but absolute trust between the two of them after…" Her voice trailed off, leaving the "you left" unsaid.

Gwen suddenly realized how difficult and painful their conversation must be for Ianto; how hard it must be for him to talk about Jack and Wil. "Ianto, are you okay?" she asked quietly, sincerely.

He nodded and smiled. "All the better for being back, ma'am."

She smiled at him in return and squeezed his arm before taking his hand in hers, "And I'm glad you are back. It wasn't the same without you."

They were silent for a moment.

"Although…" he added, "what The Doctor said earlier has me a bit worried."

"What's that?"

"You know… about the, erm, _hair loss_."

"Oh! That! And by hair loss you mean… Hmm. Well, I think he was just pulling your leg."

"You do? I'm not so sure…"

"Good thing, then, that you're back on the job. Torchwood has an excellent physician on staff." She gave his hand a good natured squeeze, but then sighed audibly.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"What are we doing in here?" She looked around worriedly.

"We're doing what we were told. Wil was very clear about it."

"But…" Ianto could feel the tension abruptly increase in Gwen's fingers as she unconsciously began kneading his hand. "What about Rhys? What about Jack? What about The Doctor? What about the red-haired woman?"

"We promised her, Gwen. I reckon we have to trust her. Besides…"

"Besides what?"

"Besides, I'd be willing to wager if we tried to leave that we'd find the doors locked. I'd be willing to wager the ship wouldn't let us out."

"Why?" she frowned. "How do you know that?"

"Because," he said darkly, "I think it was the TARDIS, in part, who told us to stay put."


	32. Chapter 32

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTYTWO**

"What do you want?" Wil asked.

It was shocking but still it did not utterly surprise her that The Doctor slowly turned his head and stared at her, his face, his eyes void of life. It was to be expected, all things considered. That didn't mean it wasn't wrong and wasn't _upsetting_…

It was as if she had summoned a malevolent spirit to a séance: she felt both dread and anticipation as she looked into the Time Lord's blank eyes.

What Wil didn't have, purposefully, was a plan. She'd already seen too many of their plans go sideways. Instead, what she _did_ have was something astonishing unfolding gradually and inexorably inside of her mind. It was the power and wisdom of the cosmos, and more. Much more. All she had to do, as the saying goes, was to "Wait for it."

The Doctor, or rather the thing that had possessed The Doctor, answered her question. It was a low, agonized vocalization, like the sound of a creature being injured.

The sound of his voice was like the chill from an open door, like a draught of terror.

"I have what I want."

"But you do not have what you need," Wil argued.

"Not yet."

#/ Wil? /#

It was The Doctor's TARDIS speaking soundlessly to her. Or perhaps it was The Doctor. In truth, Wil knew from experience they were largely one and the same.

#/ I will not, I must not allow this abomination to take me. /#

Wil mentally nodded. This was something she already understood.

"You will never get what you need," she said matter-of-factly to the thing standing before her.

"That is not foreordained."

"Nevertheless I can guarantee it."

"It is known from this one," somehow she knew it was The Doctor being referenced, "that you are…" there was a long pause, "unusual."

"Damn straight." She couldn't help but smile.

#/ Wil! Beware! Do not allow the abomination inside your mind. /#

#/ Cut it out! What do you think I am, an idiot? /#

#/ Sorry. /#

"I am more than you know," she said, "and vastly more than you imagine. Be cautious of underestimating me. For a human to grasp what I am would require such a comprehensive remapping of the terran mind that it would be pointless calling it human anymore. I believe you are no more capable, probably less. If abhorrences have nightmares, I am your worst."

"Such arrogance."

"Such truth."

Off in the distance the grinding of The Doctor's TARDIS signaled its departure, as anticipated and intended. Her friends were safe. The Doctor's ship was safe. Wil permitted herself a nanosecond of blessed relief.

She was now alone with the abomination, fighting for the life of The Doctor and, she smiled inwardly at the sudden realization, perchance the life of Captain Jack Harkness.

And undoubtedly her own life as well…


	33. Chapter 33

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTYTHREE**

The Doctor turned his body, fully facing her, "If there is underestimation here," he said, "it does not belong to me."

He raised a hand, much as Donna had done. Wil consciously slowed subjective time as she watched, fascinated. Something in his palm, something like a glint, became a spark, which in turn became a little marble-sized ball of naked energy. She recognized the EM field just as the displacement current was released through his hand, from his hand. It hit her squarely in the solar plexus and propelled her several feet into the air before she dropped onto the floor.

Unlike Rhys, Wil was in top physical form. Her martial arts training came into play as she rolled lightly off her shoulder and was back up in a standing position within seconds, ready for more.

"Is that all you've got?" Wil mocked as she haughtily shook out her hair and grinned.

The second energy blast slammed her against something low and solid. She wasn't sure what it was, due to the bizarre remodeling that had taken place. The breath was knocked out of her as she slammed to the floor – hitting it much harder this time than the last.

She rose to her feet a little more slowly than before and stood for a long moment considering him. "I can do this all day," she said, "what about you?"

Again she was hit. This time she wasn't really sure exactly what happened. But she suddenly found herself flat on her back and beginning to hurt. She touched the corner of her mouth with her fingertips and found blood.

#/ Wil, as a tactic for buying time this isn't working out so well. /#

The portion of The Doctor and his TARDIS that was inside her mind, she realized, had a peculiar sense of humor.

#/ You suppose I haven't noticed? /#

#/ Perhaps it is time to alter your approach, Wil. /#

#/ You think? /#

Using her hands Wil pushed up off the floor and stood shakily.

"Well, maybe I was wrong about wanting to do this all day. You're going to kill me, you know, if you keep this up. Are you sure you want to do that?"

She saw the hand move.

"Wait!" she yelled. "I have a proposition. I know what you need and I can help you."

Her words were met by a rising howl, a noise unlike anything Wil had ever heard before. It wasn't mechanical or structural or electronic but more like the sound of something large and bestial being hurt.

But the sound was not coming from The Doctor. In fact, for the first time she saw the blank look on his face replaced by something else – something indefinable but nevertheless something _different_. She'd take what she could get and she took that slight change for a good sign.

The moan began to subside, like the dying after-rumble of a thunderclap.

"I can give it to you," she continued, "but there is a price."


	34. Chapter 34

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTYFOUR**

He knew that he was dying. There was a place of rest for all things, and after all the battles, all the heartaches, all the pain and all the losses, Jack Harkness began to think he'd reached his final destination. He supposed he had known it for awhile now; there had been a crushing weariness in him ever since that cold, rain-swept night he'd bitterly teleported off the roof of the Millennium Centre. (1)

With a bone-deep tiredness like that there really wasn't anywhere you could go or anything you could do to totally escape it.

At the time he'd been running away, running away from the sorrow and emptiness – the overwhelming feeling that he'd been mined too deeply and too often for blood and sweat. AND tears… don't forget the tears. _And_ he'd been running toward something he knew he desperately wanted yet he couldn't quite make out clearly as he stood alone on that raw, damp night, but which now was crystal clear: he wanted rest and solitude and an ease from his own unresolved and endless burdens.

The strange, solitary place he presently occupied felt to be some sort of purgatory – located somewhere in between bliss and misery. There was a distinct absence of sensation – a numbness – and a lack of physical pain. And he felt an acute nonexistence of self that seemed to be growing, as if in a short amount of time the void created by the dearth of sensation would swallow everything. And then he'd be gone.

He would've been fairly content to have remained in that state, disappearing into history, becoming part of the geography of the place, fading into a final, mindless dream of nothingness. He was gradually becoming inured and blind to himself, his sphere of consciousness reducing down to a tiny, glittering kernel of his being.

And yet it was that same kernel that would not let him go quietly into oblivion. It was that kernel which first noticed the soft, droning noise he eventually realized was a sort of recognizable, identifiable sound. And then that sound became, transformed into a voice. He was having trouble distinguishing the actual words, but the voice itself was tantalizingly familiar. It made him feel warm, less alone, and it chased some of the numbness away.

The spark inside him strained, struggled to survive and strengthen. It also labored to parse the sound, the voice, its words. It was impossibly difficult, incomprehensibly exhausting, but one word managed to shine through. Just one word… and that word was… "Proposition."

Captain Jack Harkness heard that word and suddenly knew not only who had spoken it, but what it signified. And although he had no voice, he screamed.

(1) "Prodigals" Chapter 1.


	35. Chapter 35

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTYFIVE**

"_You_ would have the temerity to offer _me_ a proposal?" Fluids sluiced from weeping wounds in the walls and ceiling, raining down in muddy curtains, mixing with the already sloppy floor.

"As I said, I know what you need," Wil replied coolly.

All around her, walls, ceiling and floor erupted in spikes. They did not touch her, they were not meant to, but they _were_ meant to intimidate her.

"I am not amused by your parlor tricks. Query The Doctor, the one standing before me whom you've taken, he'll tell you what I am. Trifling with me is not in your best interest, I promise you."

"You are a most curious thing."

"Oh, I'm much more than that, I can assure you."

There was a long pause.

"What do you offer?"

"As I said, I can provide what you need. But only if my demands are met, and they are not negotiable."

"Continue."

"First, you must restore and release those you've taken. There are three: the Time Lord who stands before me, the woman Donna Noble and the man Jack Harkness. They must be returned _exactly_ as they were, intact and unharmed."

"Is there more you require beyond that?" Was there a tone of amusement in the voice? The face of The Doctor betrayed nothing.

"Oh yes, there's more. Second, you must put back this facility _precisely_ the way it was before you made your oh-so very entertaining modifications."

There was another long pause.

"And these are your demands?" Definite amusement, Wil thought. Well, two could play at that game.

"Oh no, I'm just getting warmed up. Third, you must leave this universe and go to a different one, a different brane. You must cross over from this side of the bulk to the next. After you do that, after you bridge the hyperdimensional gap between branes, where you go subsequently and where you end up is your choice, but you must never, ever return here."

"You're joking."

"I'm afraid not. In this universe, this sliver of the unlimited realities composed of infinite brane worlds you have been deemed unhealthy on both the individual and species/galactic level. In other words, you're not welcome; we don't want you here."

"How sad for you."

#/ Go ahead, Wil. /#

#/ Thank you. Took you long enough. /#

#/ Again, sorry. There was some housecleaning to do. /#

#/ Are you implying? /#

#/ Wil, go ahead. /#

"If you do not agree to my terms," she returned her full attention to the inert figure of The Doctor, "I _will_ destroy you. The choice is yours. But let me help you with your decision-making. You've been insidiously trying to pry your way into my head since I left The Doctor's TARDIS. I now freely invite you inside my mind; you can determine for yourself if I am joking."

It entered her. Tried to do damage; she'd expected that. It failed. She expected that, too.

Meanwhile, The Doctor's limp body fell to the ground, no longer needed.


	36. Chapter 36

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTYSIX**

The gradual, complex and inexorable unfolding of The Doctor's gift inside her mind now complete, her promised potential fulfilled, Wil knew there was very little, if anything, that could harm her, unless she chose to permit it. This serene sense of impermeability colored her perceptions and illuminated the way forward.

In the mental _housecleaning_, as it had been so cleverly described, she had given up much, but gained more. Such was the nature of the deal. She now clearly and perfectly recognized her transformation as a blessing rather than a curse – all previous ambiguities resolved. (1)

She took the time to investigate and marvel at what she'd become; but in reality, it took her no time at all. Such was the nature of The Doctor's gift.

Then she fearlessly embraced the sentience of the developing TARDIS.

It had given up trying to break through her mental defenses, at least for the moment. Score a big one for the good guys.

"And what do I get in return?" it inquired soundlessly, telepathically. Freed of its Doctor-based physical manifestation, Wil thought the "voice" had an almost childlike quality – unlike The Doctor's TARDIS, its voice seemed small, hesitant, maybe even frightened.

"Well…" she answered. "You get me."

"I do not understand."

"Maybe if you'd not immediately tried to co-opt me you would have learned by now what I bring to the table. Let me spell it out for you. Pay attention. First of all, I'm part Time Lord. A big part Time Lord. I can offer you a Rassilon Imprimatur, which is way more than you will ever, I repeat, _ever_ get here. You blew the possibility of any sort of cooperation or assistance from the only other Time Lord in this galaxy when you absconded with his best friend. Bad move on your part, by the way. He's a good guy, that Time Lord, but he's not in the habit of offering second chances.

"Second, I'm part TARDIS. There's no Eye of Harmony left in existence because Gallifrey is gone, destroyed in the Time War. But, if you agree to my terms, The Doctor's TARDIS has consented to share with you the power she's bestowed upon me, which comes from her heart, and thus from the Eye. She's being extremely generous, you understand, despite the fact you've seriously pissed her off by your aforementioned action – she's _very_ fond of Jack Harkness – and by screwing with her Time Lord.

"Third, I'm part human. Don't underrate this. Humans are a very special species, just ask The Doctor." She paused a beat. "Oh wait, that's right, you can't ask him because you've messed with him and now he's laying catatonic on the cold, slimy floor. Clearly another stupid move on your part. Look, you've been screwing up big time and as a human I'm a good candidate for teaching you what you need to know to get along in any universe. And incidentally, there's a whole lot that you most certainly need to learn, beginning with how to play well with others. But beyond that, you can't do much better than a human traveling companion, just ask The Doctor.

"Fourth… well, fourth I'm also part something else. Something I'm not sure you'd even be able to understand right now. But let's just say I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that I'm powerful beyond anything you can imagine. When I say I can destroy you, I can. Do not doubt it. I can and I will. But I can also protect you while we bring you up to speed. It's scary out there, no matter which universe you end up in. Swimming alone is not advised."

"I do not have the capability to cross the bulk, to bridge the hyperdimensional gap between branes."

"That won't be a problem. You did manage to do one very smart thing, whether intentional or not. You took form over the Cardiff Rift. It just so happens I'm uniquely able to manipulate the rift. In fact, assuming I'm not overly stressed or worried about any silly thing like, oh I don't know, _the lives of my friends_, I can pandimensionally surf spacetime using the rift. We can hop the bulk to the next brane, no sweat."

"How do I know you are not lying?"

"You don't. But do you really have a choice here? Certain destruction or continued existence? Seems like a no-brainer to me. Uh, no pun intended."

She noticed The Doctor beginning to stir. Gently she reached out with a small corner of her mind and prodded him. The Time Lord tentatively touched her back. He was weak, but he was okay. She smiled inwardly and then shrugged, refocusing complete attention on her internal discussion.

"But I'm not through, not yet. I have one last demand," Wil said silently. "I want to know something. I want you to explain _why now_. What caused you to take your leap at this time? You weren't ready – you _aren't_ ready – yet something unusual must've set you off, something unnatural sped up a process that should have lasted another thousand years, if not a thousand millennia. What was it?"

When the voice inside her mind finally concluded its surprisingly long response, the human part of Wil Beinert squeezed her eyes shut and silently mouthed, "Oh no." A single tear ran down her cheek.

"I'm very sorry," the childlike voice replied sadly, sounding like it meant it.

(1) "Revelations" Chapter 18.


	37. Chapter 37

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTYSEVEN**

The Doctor sat on the floor cross-legged and tried to put his mind back into order as he looked at Wil, her eyes closed, her face unreadable. He wasn't exactly sure what was going on at present, but it did not bother him overmuch. He was positive he'd figure it out soon enough.

He had entrusted Wil with the necessary tools, and trusted her to use them effectively if necessary. There would be no second-guessing that particular decision, regardless of its long-term consequences. As he'd seen it, there'd been little choice, all things considered. And it had been a chancy hand he'd been forced to play, in no small part in order to get his former companion Donna Noble to safety. That, now that he looked around, appeared to be exactly what had happened. It had also been a calculated but necessary risk to expose himself to extreme danger – or worse! – as he'd done. But again, his options had been limited and he had enormous confidence in Wil.

What he couldn't trust was this thing, this entity, this barely conscious TARDIS, which clearly had not yet learned that with great power comes great responsibility. And he wasn't convinced it would ever learn that simplest but most sacred of truths. Its creation had simply been too off, too immoral, too _wrong_. He felt it in his bones. It was a perversion, an abomination. How could one right a wrong like that?

He had no experience growing or raising a TARDIS. In all of his lives he'd only ever been close to, known intimately, one TARDIS, and she'd been fully mature when they'd met. But, despite this lack of experience he understood very well this new ship was anything but normal. Quite the opposite: it was aberrant and malformed.

In this Wil spoke truly: The Doctor hadn't liked it at first blush, didn't like it now, and he would certainly not give it a second chance. There was no leniency in his hearts for it, and no forgiveness for its too many transgressions, regardless of its predicament or motivations. Its actions were simply unacceptable and indefensible. If nothing else it would learn cause and effect from him as he put it out of its wretched misery.

Such was the power and wrath of the Time Lord.

On the other hand… it seemed just as clear Wil apparently had given it the benefit of the doubt; for some reason she had decided to _not_ put the abomination out of its wretched misery. For the first time The Doctor found himself in vehement disagreement with the woman who would be, could be, his equal. This lack of consensus didn't cause him to respect Wil any less, but nothing she could do or say would change his mind. They would have to agree to disagree… as long as he got his way.

He mentally pinged her and was acknowledged but not as fully as he expected or would've wished. With a start he realized he had been so engrossed in his own internal dialog that he'd totally lost track of what was going on around him. That was inexcusable and it was also, to be truthful, impossible. He'd been intentionally manipulated and excluded. He'd been purposefully shut out. It stunned and mortified him.

And it frightened him.

The Doctor stood slowly, stuck his hands in his coat pockets, and blinked at Wil. "Hello!" he chirped as he smiled disarmingly. "What's happening?"

She looked at him with her green-gold eyes, smiled back and raised a hand, her arm extended, as if in greeting. It was an oddly theatrical gesture. But it was no greeting. "Not again," he had just enough time to think before, in a flash of painfully intense light, his world went black and he crumpled to the floor once more.


	38. Chapter 38

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTYEIGHT**

The nascent entity inside her head expressed shock and dismay.

"Don't worry," Wil told it, "The Doctor is not harmed. It's just that he is not very happy with you at the moment. To be honest when he wakes up he's not going to be very happy with me, either, but that's beside the point. I wasn't sure he would allow you to leave as I've promised. I felt it better to not take chances."

Then her _other_ inner voice spoke up. Wil was starting to feel like her brain was getting a bit overcrowded…

#/ Wil, what are you doing? /#

#/ You know what I'm doing. You also know I have no choice. /#

#/ There are always choices. /#

#/ Yes, but only one that allows me to keep all my promises and retain my self-esteem. You know what I must do so let me do it. /#

#/ Wil… /#

#/ Hush. /#

"We must go now," she told the emerging TARDIS. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Then fulfill the rest of our agreement. Once I am certain, we'll leave."

Wil watched as the surrounding area became a soft, monotonous, drizzly grey. Then, as if her vision was suddenly clearing after a swim in the ocean, the room's old appearance reformed, reshaped and was restored. It was the Hub again down to the old pizza boxes, overflowing waste bins and dried coffee spills. The fetid goop on the floor was gone.

#/ Donna is safe, Wil. /#

#/ Wonderful! Take good care of her. /#

#/ Yes, I will. Take good care of yourself. /#

#/ Back at ya. /#

And just like that, the connection with The Doctor's ship was severed. For a nanosecond Wil Beinert grieved deeply.

"Will this not be hard for you?" the voice asked her.

"Yes, but go ahead. Lesson number one: not all difficult things are bad." Wil smiled inwardly, "You'll be tested on that later."

Then her eyes opened wide with wonder.

Out of his office, as if he was emerging from behind stage curtains to take a bow, stepped Jack Harkness.

He was stark naked and visibly damp, as if he'd just walked out of the shower. His skin glistened. His hair gleamed. His eyes sparkled. He looked around, blinking, as if he was trying to get his eyes accustomed to the light. When he saw her, he smiled.

He was beautiful and she loved him.

"Did you have to do it like this?" she thought, suddenly feeling breathless.

"I have my reasons," was the soundless response.

"Wil?" Jack asked, looking into her eyes.

"Jack…" she found couldn't say it.

It turned out that she didn't have to.

The sudden realization hit Jack like a pale, cold morning. His smile vanished. "Please… don't take my heart away," he said whisper-soft, his face, his entire body a portrait in sorrow.

She waited for a long moment and then responded with equal gentleness. "We'll meet again," she murmured and then closed her eyes, "someday…"

"TARDIS," she thought.

"Teacher," was the reply.

And then she was gone.


	39. Chapter 39

**ABOMINATION**

**THIRTYNINE**

The Doctor opened his eyes and groaned. He'd fallen to the floor this day one too many times…

Recalling what happened, he quickly looked over to where Wil had been standing, and what he saw didn't make sense at first. He closed his eyes, shook his head and opened them again.

No change.

A stark naked Jack Harkness was parked on the very spot, staring down at it.

The Time Lord silently observed his friend for a moment. Jack looked okay, but then again, maybe not so okay. As The Doctor took the time to really think about it, he decided his friend the Captain actually looked way more _not_ okay than okay: there was something about the set of his jaw… and the fact that he didn't seem to be blinking. The Captain being totally naked seemed a bit unusual as well, but apparently it didn't worry Jack Harkness all that much, so The Doctor wouldn't let it bother him…

"Jack?" The Time Lord spoke softly. There was no response.

He stood and took a couple of tentative steps in Jack's direction, "Jack?"

He waited. Still no response.

He slipped off his brown coat and after walking the final few feet separating them tenderly draped it over the Captain's shoulders, allowing his hands to rest lightly on Jack's upper arms.

The Doctor peered with eyes full of concern into his friend's face. "Jack, speak to me. What has happened?"

Jack came out of his stupor with a start. "Doctor! What are you doing here?"

Their code, their usual and mutually agreed upon answer to that question was, always had been,"Long story." But The Doctor purposefully chose to not follow their customary practice: strange as their lives were, even he could intuit this obviously was not the usual type of situation.

"I came here to see you, but instead met up with a bit of a situation. Are you all right, Jack?"

"No. No I'm not all right. Wil's gone."

"I see."

"Do you? Do you _really_ see?" Jack's eyes flashed. There was anger in his voice. "Tell me what you know, Doctor, because I'm thinking there's too much going on here to be a coincidence."

"Jack, calm down," The Doctor removed his hands from Jack's arms and took a step back – just in case his friend opted to take a swing at him. "I'll be happy to tell you everything I know, and perhaps you can return the favor, because I literally don't have a clue what happened to Wil. But I do know that she's likely saved both of our lives… and the lives of Gwen Cooper, Rhys Williams, Donna Noble and Ianto Jones as well. And that's just for starters."

Jack suddenly had the most astonished look on his face. "Ianto?! Ianto's back?"

"What? Back from where?" The Doctor shook his head and scowled in confusion. "I don't know anything about that! But what I do know is that Ianto was here with the rest of your team trying to figure out how to help you. They were really quite worried about you, you know. And so was I, Jack."

The Doctor told Jack everything that had happened from the moment he arrived in Cardiff to when he opened his eyes only to see the Captain standing _au natural_ and staring fixedly at the floor. Jack then indeed reciprocated by filling in the story's various gaps with what he knew. Eventually, and with repeated and somewhat painful verbal prodding, it became clear to the Time Lord why Jack had been surprised to hear Ianto's name added to the mix. A few other things fell into place as well. Big things… Important things… Disturbing things…

Jack recalled with horrifying clarity his assimilation by the emergent TARDIS. The description distressed The Doctor far more than he let on. He looked at his friend with renewed wonder, amazed that the Captain could tell the horrific tale so calmly and coolly. But equally disturbing for the Time Lord was the denouement of Jack's narrative, and the startling realization of the terrible transgression Wil had evidently perpetrated upon them. _Upon him_.

"I never expected Wil to do something like that," an upset Doctor admitted to Jack. "I thought leaving her that ultimate option would be, you know, a last resort, a failsafe to save my TARDIS and the souls aboard her. I never in a million lifetimes…" The Doctor's voice trailed off.

"I know," said Jack sadly. "Wil rarely behaves as expected."

"You love her, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"I'm sorry, Jack."

"Yeah, thanks."

The two men were silent for a long minute, each lost in his own thoughts: Jack coming to grips with indescribable loss; The Doctor dealing with what he perceived as unjustifiable betrayal and unforgivable treachery.

"You know," The Doctor, being The Doctor, just couldn't help pushing into possibly dangerous territory, but he had to find out, "I thought you'd be angry with me for allowing what happened to happen. I was prepared to end up on the floor one more time, if necessary, and, you know, not voluntarily or peaceably_,_ if you catch my meaning."

Despite his sorrow, which no doubt would only grow worse before it got better, _if_ it ever got better, Jack smiled at the Time Lord. "No, I don't blame you. How could I? None of this is your fault, unless despite your long periods of absence you want or need to take responsibility for all the bad things that happen to me and everything else that goes wrong on this hell-hole of a planet?" Jack chuckled softly, "In that case, I reckon you should never leave." He looked into The Doctor's eyes for a long, slow beat. "Which reminds me, why _did_ you want to see me?"

"Nothing important," The Doctor lied. "But that reminds _me_," he thought a diversion might be in order, a quick change of subject, "where did that piece of coral come from?"


	40. Chapter 40

**ABOMINATION**

**FOURTY**

The Captain had The Doctor follow him down to his personal space below the floor of his office, where he exchanged the Time Lord's brown coat for a well-worn black tee-shirt and a pair of khakis. "So, what do we do now?" Jack asked as he buckled on his old leather wristband, which he'd been relieved to find in its proper spot on the shelf inside his wardrobe.

Jack Harkness had an itchy feeling that the Time Lord wasn't telling him everything, but the shape of what he wasn't telling him came through clearly enough and made him shiver. _Why had he come?_ Jack had known The Doctor too long and too well to fail to notice the glib response which glossed over something deeply and intensely personal. As the Captain pulled up his suspenders he glanced sidelong at his friend. There'd be no forcing it out of him, whatever it was. Either it would come or it wouldn't.

The Doctor was deep in thought, sitting cross-legged on Jack's bed, twirling his sonic screwdriver between the fingers of his left hand. "Does your teleport work?" he asked.

Jack shrugged, "Not since you disabled it the last time I saw you, Doctor." He winked, "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Well, come here," the Time Lord said. He held Jack's left hand in his right as the sonic hummed for a few seconds.

"That should do it," The Doctor announced, looking up at Jack before releasing his hand. "It's fixed. And to answer your question, we need to track down the TARDIS. Your handy-dandy teleport will help. That is…" The Doctor searched Jack's eyes deeply, "I don't want to make any assumptions here, if you want to come along with me?"

"Yeah, of course, I need to get my people back."

The Doctor, looking very serious, patted a spot next to him on the bed. "No, that's not quite what I mean. Sit down, Jack."

Jack sat and looked at the Time Lord worriedly. Whatever was going on was more than a little bit unusual. Jack's mind raced over recent events, trying to identify anything that would've been problematic, that is, problematic beyond the typical freakish norm. He wasn't sure he could handle a second round of Really Bad News. Especially if it concerned his friend from Gallifrey…

"Jack," The Doctor was nervously fiddling with his sonic, "I want you to come with me."

He caught the Captain's eye and it was like there was a static discharge – The Doctor could see exactly what Jack was thinking.

A look of surprise played across Jack's face. "What?"

"I've been a fool, Jack. Ever since I met you, I've known…"

"_What?_" All of a sudden the solid ground under Jack's mental feet turned into a solipsistic ice sheet; his look of surprise morphing into pure unadulterated shock.

"Jack, I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm asking if you want to travel with me. I'm finished with looking backward, Jack, I want to look forward, and when I do, I see you there with me. I'm asking if you share that vision of the future – if you want to come along with me. It's an invitation, Captain Harkness. One that is long overdue."

The Captain shook his head, "Doctor, your timing leaves a lot to be desired."

"Come on Jack, when is the timing ever going to be absolutely perfect? There's always going to be something or another that will make a convenient excuse. What's stopping you now, Jack?"

"My people, Torchwood…"

"Your people will survive without you. Give them a chance to work out a new normal. Torchwood will endure as well. Probably flourish. Gwen, Ianto, Mickey and Martha are a good group. They'll continue doing good work. And we'll check in on them from time to time."

"Ianto…"

"Ah. You love him too, don't you Jack?"

Jack nodded silently.

"You know as well as anyone, he has to work out his problems on his own. There's not much you can do to help Ianto right now other than leave him alone, stay out of his way, and allow him get on with life. It's pretty clear to me that in his Torchwood colleagues he has good and decent friends who care a lot about him. They'll help him through this."

"But, Doctor…"

"What is it, Jack?"

"Then there's us. I've worked hard…" Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I know you have. No one knows that better than me. Look, I'm not saying it's going to be simple; we'll have to find our way. But we'll travel forward together." The Doctor smiled brightly and his eyes sparkled. "Jack, it's a big universe and whatever downsides you manage to find to my offer they can't compete with what's out there waiting for us."

"So, I'm to be your companion?"

"Oh no, not companion. You'll be much more than that. You always have been."

Jack's brilliant smile matched The Doctor's as he nodded his head and it was like sunrise in the arctic spring, the warmth encompassing them both. "I have one condition," the Captain finally said, blue eyes twinkling.

"Name it."

"Someday I want you to tell me why you _really_ came to see me."

"Agreed. And some day I will. I promise. For now suffice it to say that it had to do with looking backward, not forward."


	41. Chapter 41

**ABOMINATION**

**FOURTYONE**

The two men in long coats were hardly noticeable, standing side-by-side just within the ship's chameleon circuit field. If someone looked directly at them, the observer wouldn't give the sight a second thought. That's the way the circuit worked.

They stood a modest distance from the home of Sylvia Noble. As they watched, the front door opened and out walked a small group of people: Sylvia, her daughter Donna, and Rhys Williams. Rhys warmly shook the women's hands as he said something to each of them.

The Lord of Time stepped forward, slightly outside the circuit's field. Jack Harkness moved to put a hand on his arm and gently pull him back, but then thought better of it. He trusted that The Doctor knew what he was doing.

Noticing the motion, Donna merely looked at the Time Lord with the distracted passing interest of someone who has seen a crack in a wall that they did not remember, or a fleeting suggestion of meaningful shape in a cloud.

Rhys turned away and the women went back inside the house and closed the door.

Undoubtedly Donna's chance encounter with Jack had tweaked her memory just enough to throw her mind into chaos. She had been drawn unknowingly and inexorably to Cardiff as a result. Had it been a total coincidence? The Doctor wasn't sure. One could always dismiss Occam's razor and maintain it was more than mere chance. What he preferred to believe was that it was another manifestation of a quantum mechanic universe where anything was possible. Certainly the improbable. Even the impossible.

But the TARDISes, both of them, and The Doctor, had done their jobs well. Donna was once more herself and once more blissfully ignorant of her "previous" life as his companion. Once again The Doctor had to watch Donna Noble fade into the background and disappear from his life. He could only hope that any further chance encounters would be unremarkable. That being said, Rhys was the only member of the group with whom she could safely associate. So he'd been the one to bring Donna home to her mother and grandfather. Once again and hopefully for the last time the grand deception had been successful.

At least it was according to Rhys. "Everything is okay," he said as he approached them and smiled. "She doesn't suspect a thing. The false memories you implanted in her mind seem to work. I think you pulled it off! Her mother is most grateful."

"Oh she is, is she?" The Doctor remarked skeptically.

The three men stood quietly for a few moments.

"Give you a lift?" The Doctor finally asked, tipping his head towards his ship.

"Er, no. If you don't mind, I reckon I've had enough of the inside of your police box." Rhys shrugged. "I haven't been in London for awhile, and I think I'll take the rest of the day to catch up with a couple of friends. I'll make it back to Cardiff on my own, no worries." He looked at The Doctor and then at Jack. "I mean, if that's okay with the two of you?"

The two men nodded in unison. Rhys thought the sight rather cute; they were so different and yet so very much alike. But then he scrutinized Jack, "So, will you be okay then, Captain?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm going to be fine. Do you think Gwen will be all right?"

"Oh, no doubt. It'll be hard to have you gone, I'm sure, but clearing up the chain of command as you've done will make her life much easier. Things will calm down, mind you not that it's ever _really_ _entirely_ calm at Torchwood. Gwen will find her own level as she always does. Plus she has Ianto, Martha and Mickey to help her, and anyone else she decides to bring on board."

Rhys winked and smiled. "I'll be off then!" he said jauntily before turning round on his heals. He whistled tunelessly as he walked away.

Jack thought for a moment and then looked at The Doctor. "What you think he meant by that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Anyone else she decides to bring on…"

"Well… she is the boss now during your _extended leave of absence_." The Doctor put special emphasis on the last four words.

"Yeah, but do you think…?"

"Ha! How do you spell nepotism?"

"I'm thinking R-H-Y-S!" Jack waved his hands through the air in mock surrender. "The place is going to go to hell without me, isn't it?"

The two men laughed gleefully.

"I think they'll be fine, Jack."

"Yep, even Ianto." Jack shook his head and took a deep breath.

The Doctor watched him carefully, "Bygones?"

"Yeah, I think, eventually. He'll move on. He's young."

"Oh, look who's talking, you whippersnapper!"

"Hey old man, who're you calling a whippersnapper?"

Jack crossed his arms over his chest with easy insouciance. "You know," he continued, "when I told Ianto I was leaving with you he confided that he'd imagined becoming your companion…"

"Hmmm," reflected the Time Lord.

"Doctor!"

"Oh Jack, don't worry. I'm not going to corrupt your protégée. Did you tell him that I choose my companions, they don't choose me?"

"No, I told him not to hold his breath…"

They stood silently, smiling, looking into each others eyes for a long, slow minute, just as they'd done many times before.

"So, Jack," The Doctor said, breaking the spell, suddenly turning solemn. "Anywhere, any _time _in particular you want to go?"

"Hmmm… How about Casablanca in 1942? You know... _I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship _and all that." Captain Jack Harkness smiled wickedly for a tick. "Nah, I'm just kidding – but seriously, Doctor, I've heard rumors of actual Dyson spheres out there, somewhere in the universe. Have you ever seen one?"

"No, but old man that I am I've heard plenty of those same stories over the years. What do you say we go have a look?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically. As the two turned towards the open entrance of the TARDIS, The Doctor looked sidelong at his friend. "By the way, Jack. Do you like cats, you know, Earth felines?"

"Love 'em," Jack answered. "Why?"

The Doctor smiled enigmatically.


	42. Epilogue

**ABOMINATION**

**EPILOGUE**

Wil and her TARDIS, although she didn't exactly think of it as _her _TARDIS, had been doing a lot of practicing.

They'd made it across the bulk to another brane, another universe, another reality not so different from the universe they'd left. There they'd encountered similar but not identical physical laws – different enough to make things interesting for Wil and at the same time challenging for the ship. And happily this new universe was teeming with sentient life forms, some of whom were as endearingly crazy as the ones they'd left behind.

All in all they were settling in nicely.

"Teacher," the TARDIS asked one day in between lessons, "you remember what we discovered about The Doctor, what he wanted to do? To unlock the Time War and somehow go back and save Gallifrey and his people?"

"Yes, Grasshopper, I do," she'd taken to calling the ship by that name. At first it'd been sort of a joke, but it had stuck and now felt right. "What about it?"

"Do you think he might succeed?"

Wil thought about this for awhile. "Well, I don't know, I suppose if there's anyone who could do it, it'd be The Doctor. The Doctor _and_ Jack…" her voice trailed off and she became silent.

"Teacher?"

"Yes?"

"If he… if they do it, do you think we'll be able to tell?"

"Oh yes. Definitely. We'll know."

"Good."

"Why?"

"It would be nice to learn that The Doctor succeeded in getting what he so badly wants."

"Yes, I agree. Although there is a saying on Earth, it's one of Jack's favorites: 'Be careful what you wish for, you may receive it'." She smiled, fondly remembering her friend, her Captain, her lover. For a brief moment she allowed the memory's soft warmth to wash over her.

But there was work to do.

"Now, let's go back to your studies, eh? Where were we?" she smiled. "Oh yes... We were discussing Plato's _Republic _and the concept of justice or, as he called it '_Dikaisyne_'. Shall we continue?"

**FINIS**

_"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."  
__J. R. R. Tolkien - The Fellowship of the Ring_

**--**

**Afterword**

_Dear faithful reader: did you enjoy this story? If so, its sequel is 'Solipsism'._

_Special thanks to Chocky, Alcibie, Kelsey Noel and (as always) Jess._

_TTFN... _


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